POEMS/ Backwards

Backwards
I am riding south
on rails of steel,
back to the view,
eyes focusing on
what they’ve passed.
I feel like one of Dante's
soothsayers—body
condemned to walk
eternally in one direction,
head facing in the other
punished for predicting
what would come.
When I was young,
I looked to the future—
there was only one
direction to go.
Now my past is much longer
than my future
that looking backwards
is a gift I’m happy to posses.
Going forward, or backward
sooner or later
we all reach the end.
From Migrations (Antrim House, 2013)
I am riding south
on rails of steel,
back to the view,
eyes focusing on
what they’ve passed.
I feel like one of Dante's
soothsayers—body
condemned to walk
eternally in one direction,
head facing in the other
punished for predicting
what would come.
When I was young,
I looked to the future—
there was only one
direction to go.
Now my past is much longer
than my future
that looking backwards
is a gift I’m happy to posses.
Going forward, or backward
sooner or later
we all reach the end.
From Migrations (Antrim House, 2013)