"From Ilse Bing".

“From Ilse Bing”.

My daughter, son, and elephant
drift along the anonymous, evening road.
No one sees us.

Our journey carries us over, under,
and among the mysterious blanket people.

We have no easier way to get
where we are going than this one,
but we know the route quite well,
having traveled here before.

We run into the usual eyelid road closures.
Our elephant carries us over the detours
and then he must rest, so we join him.

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