Privileges of Travel
You can’t forget you purchased it;
this private tour moves you
by lurch and swing, recrossing
uneven lines of rail and pitch-
black roads: the wide relief
of scenery. You hurry
toward a river, toward the first
suspension bridge, aloof
as if the whirr of tires were
the only sound among the sounds
repeating a belief that settles
like a liquor on your lips,
like a memory straying
among your dreams in slow parade.
The movement is uncertain:
is it light escaping other
travelers, or the shallow
curve of your own route
that disappears into the rearview
mirror, into the eye