It was not a secret spot, being beside the highway,
But it had its secrets, like all middle ways
In the middle of the ways, one of them being
That all ways are in the middle of all the middle ways.
It’s a boundless universe, where we are the lives
Can’t be lived without bounds. Everywhere
Is equidistant from the nonexistent center
To the edges, nonexistent. We live as though
This were not the case, and so, for us, it is not.
But you were saying. Oh yes, the spot by the road,
Habitat of midges, garter snakes, dragonflies,
And toads. It had other secrets, secret lives.
The lynx that paused in a heavy snow, the doe
That did not pause and was struck on the road.
The middle of things meant always something
Was coming from nowhere, something had to go.
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