I am speaking to the greyish future
and to what might be from these
seeds that are growing still from
what we are sowing, and to the
shape of things that might just
come, and to what will have to be.
I am shouting out to a world that
at the moment does not exist but
is racing towards me, and I can
see its shadows in my headlight
But its colours I will
not see, though I wonder what it
is that those who follow me will
make of this world when I am long
gone, and all I ever felt or dreamed
is buried in this recoloured day.