To find the sun.
At six a.m. this morning i went out on the highway to find the sun.
Here is an inventory of what turned up:
1 (one) flower blossom, severed from its stem but still bluer than all the Heavens
1 (one) gold snake, lying on his back, asleep only for a little while
1 (one) dead finch, lying on her back, gold only by name
1 (one) monochrome dog who runs faster than the Devil
10 (ten) houses without people inside
100 (a hundred) trucks without people inside
1000 (a thousand!) people without people inside
1 (one) shadow of myself, sliding smugly along the asphalt
1 (one) angler's bob; God said he tangled it on the telephone line before a kind soul was caught
O (the Sun), shrouded behind more gray than we could scrape away