Tracing Your Two Lines
written by: D.R. James
There’s the one that goes round and round
with each revolving day, sunset to sunset.
For that, your eyes, looking west, would
streak the long exposure like faint tail lights
arcing away over recurring hills. The other
is different. It doesn’t depend on
where you stand, which way you face.
No matter, it releases from the daily spin and
wanders, a twirling girl’s sparkler in the dark.
Try pointing to any spot on a globe. Make it
the capital of any troubled country, and
after that miniature world turns your finger
in perfect circles, watch your fingertip trace
the course it takes as you continue your trail
from here to eternity. You’ll see it zigzags
a singular presence over the earth’s assorted
surfaces, drawing its own conclusions—
like you in this world, scratching out
a meandering, your own universe, your own
one-line sketch of this far-fetched existence.
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