The western sky was magnificent tonight. I could see the old
steam loco with the cowcatcher on the front, heading for Santa
Fe.
All my life I’ve felt drawn to just take off and follow the
sunset. ‘Ah, but that’s silly,’ you might say. ‘If you did that, and kept pace
with sun, you’d end up where you started.’
No. The idea would be to hitch a lift with a skein of wild geese,
then jump off when the wind says ‘now,’ and see where I end up.
The system doesn’t let you do that sort of thing these days.
Too many men in suits and uniforms, all guarding the free world. And maybe I’ve
already landed anyway.
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