I began to notice,
During my sixteenth year,
That my heart pulled to some other haunt.
I longed for a place to rest my eyes at night--
A place where I could escape the droning hum
Of man fixed to machine--
Where I could gaze, at midnight,
Upon the light shining through pinpricks
In the taught, dark sheet.
I began to feel deadened by routine,
By the icy glare of headlights
And blinding, bold storefronts.