Startled from your solitude you wave,
your great iron machine cries out a foriegn breath
carried since Halifax and the prairie grass
sways and dreams of being an ocean
in the moment of your passing.
More people, I am sure, have walked on the moon
have plumbed the depths of the sea and known shipwrecks ,
earth receding either way
than have known this peculiar vastness.
Deer interlope in town, browsing
medians and gas station boulevards
where still, there are no people,
just us hurtling into a punched purple sky and waving
now to coyotes pouncing in mice
amongst wheat stalks and swans
who beat their wings and sing
such an alien song.