ABSTRACT
There is no danger now that these featureless hills will hold me. That church sitting on the highest one like a great hen spreading her marble wings over the penitent houses does not beckon to me. This dusty road under my feet is like any other I have traveled, it leads only to other roads. Towns everywhere are the same when shadows thicken. Yet, each window casting a square of light, that grassy plain under a weighted sky turning to plum, tell me that as surely as my dreams are mine, I must be home.
