Tracking a whisper across frontiers of change,
I collect travel technology;
for the atrium of unknown.
Caverns in my heart and belly where trust would be,
I used to call this feeling loneliness
but today I must relinquish my church of planning,
a homey voice in my telephone pocket,
for the land that roars ahead of me, stretching stranger
and wider than I can configure.
— Julia Daye