Speed Limit | Katherine Goodell

On a long road, I drive from my home.
Driving past a sunset and the mountains
that are illuminated with pink snow,
that watch, unchanging, with indifference,
the time pass in dusks and dawns. But the
wind pounds and sweeps, never still, blowing fast
pushing water and dragging dirt, it moves
atoms of the mountains as they wait for
a day that dawn and dusk melt into such stillness
that they too will begin to move and be heard.