It began as a beautiful field,

then became a dusty lot, then

a rapidly rising skeleton to

which insects trundled, their

headlights glowing in the dusk. Now it’s a shiny dull something, a

warehouse or machine shed.

You’d think it would block the horizon, but no.

The horizon is tougher than that, and springs back into place.

You could build a hundred of these warehouse things and not fill up the big sky.

So don’t worry.