Public Republic

David Harrity

Photo: Stefan Mendelsohn

Which way does the chain
of clouds lead?
Today you find the canyon
and watch buzzards dip
deep into it,
their bodies blended
by shadows draping
the red-sand walls.
How does the heart fill with
such strange hunger
and maddening need
to ride across the country
to find all answers?
Friend, go—find the place
greater than your own
running, let it humble you
into being one creation
in awe of another.
Which way does the chain lead now?
Watch the churning
and barreling into ivory
streaks, beaten white wisps
and curves that tell you
which way has been chosen—
the highway lines
know you—take the burning road
back to where the sun begins.