Really, Really, Really, a draft of a draft of a draft

How the World Turns

At five the backyard is as vast
as Africa itself
and filled with the strange
and the wonderful.

At twelve, with wheels,
twenty miles is an eternity--
can I go there, can I ride
that far?-- from my front
door to the ocean
and once there. . .
how many twenty-miles
span the distance?

At twenty it's measured in how
many days. From Cleveland
to Dallas, we drive through the
night; from Columbus to Cumberland
six hours, from Pittsburgh to DC
forty-five minutes by plane.

At forty it's Boston in the morning
New York at two, and if you can
get the flights right a layover in DC
before you hit Atlanta and
then home.
It's four movies between continents--
a dinner and a breakfast
before staying up until
bedtime HERE.

The world through time turns
now light, now dark
and as it turns it throws off
into space so much of
its mass that as we travel
through many lights and many darks
it dwindles to a day
an hour big,
a step into metal
and an instant
away is something
else that when we see it
seems so small
so. . .

disappointing.