No matter

that I have no map,

no navigation system…

that the warp & weft

of intersecting highways

remains incomprehensible,

& the frantic push & pull

of traffic sweeps me along

with tidal force…

that strobes of light –

red & white & cautionary

yellow –

stream past in a confusion

of glancing blurs

reflecting off windshields,

steel-gray paneled bodies,

side- & rearview mirrors

dim with rain & half-light…

No matter.

I have foreseen

my arrival,

     all the same.

Woodlawn,

     I am coming.

— C.Birde, 8/22