dailies

this is a postcard from my travels: swirls of dust grasses yellowed and bone dry a peek thru the scrim of trees reveals clear-cuts from the lumber co. vast swaths of treeless desert but at night in the meadow the sky light neon stars and waves of gases from the milky way where i point upward toward the fast moving satellite and wonder if it is broadcasting a sitcom or radio show and think upon this thin view of an enormity that sits mute and indifferent of my gaze and my awe