Universe

Uni-versus, together turning around

He drives and the highway un-spools under our tires.
I knit—stitch, and stitch—my yarn un-spooling
from its skein onto my needles, turning at the end of
each row. The way we’re constrained to turn around
at a dead end and search for a different destination.
The way our planet moves, turns, revolves, tilts,
maintains its course within the universe.

So, we’re heading west, a direction that summons us
into its light at high noon. A mile or two, and there’s
an exit for a side road. We turn into it, arriving soon
at a locked iron gate and the hindering sign—Dead End,
posted in red on a rusted metal plate. Entrance denied.