So, they’re building a highway.
On this night when I drove past the site of the new highway, along the old rural route 105, and along the construction sites there was a new sight, a bright light that illuminated the side of the mountain at night.
If it wasn’t for knowing that this is the highway construction lights glowing I might have appreciated more the showing. The clear-cuts I was bestowing had suddenly a new way about them, not so foreboding.
The textures were divine, on the mountain incline, as the light hit the tree line, a slight alpine moment where light and stone align, albeit supine, the mountain’s spine offered no fault line, it was cloud nine.
Stone ablaze, my heart in a daze, I gaze, this beauty betrays what belays at the end of these land surveys. The malaise, yet stays, my glance strays, it’s not a phase, these displays of contempt, as we praise progress are like decays, on the earth it weighs.
So, they’re building a highway.
Right by old route 105, where now the beauty of the light conflicts with the awful sight of this construction site when I drive there at night. What a plight.