ON THE ROAD

In whom I saw
    that the dream could end
    and make the blown shadow bend
    who made it seem
    possible to annul the dream
    make solid the drifting shadow

Shall I, speechless,
    as the dust we raised
    settles on a deserted road
    and the day is hot and endless

Shall I make an end
    because we had no speech
    and longing was all we knew
    and that shall pass, as in a backward glance
    we shall see forgotten tents under forgotten palms

Shall I make an end and renounce
    all that you could be
    all
that you seem urgent to announce?