At the mercy of such pristine majesty,
everything manmade simplifies,
like some haphazard fraction.
No terrific, mottled Appaloosas—only the innocent
infinity of their barnyards
everywhere; simultaneous lengths of all
time and roads compacted,
creaking, and anonymously on display.
Even at the bracing
smokewhite of daybreak,
all seems equally
dazzling and incidental,
slowed to a dead pause on the brink
of immeasurable sleep. But in this breach,
what unsought but remarkable
freedom exists: every tightfisted
and usual path
having just been—humanely erased.