"At last, he has found his art, his Ithaka."

Where is my Ithaka? Here I am surrounded
by mountains, constrained by myths, while
"grain by grain a planet is composed."

The path is hard dry mud, the river too swift to cross.
Small stones show their sharp teeth. A wide side trail
leads me to a tree, whose petrifying veins seem to be
auguring the future of my brain.

Empty aluminum cans stowed in the dust. No rain.
Dr. Pepper, and White Claw Natural Lime, moisten
the illusion of future rust.

 

At last: G. Seferis,"Cavafy's Ithaka." Conjunctions: 31, 1998.
grain by grain: A. Sepahvand, et.al.,Textures of the Anthropocene:
Grain Vapor Ray. Cambridge, MA.: MIT Press, 2015.