Outposts

February 6, 1989

Traveling over earth in the dark, I see how the heavens arc, infinite with light. Yet I drive through a night pitch-black between town and town, here and there going down to a spark and a glow.

We are all unfurled - and we try to be big, but we scarcely scratch eternity, and I know by what few and scattered stars men

hold the world.