Two mighty roads obsidian flowed
split by a concrete divide,
and by this barrier lay
what had once been a raccoon, no more.
I gazed in passing and wondered what
didst draw this poor beast to its dead end.
Said my love, perhaps being a visionary it looked,
and saw not the obstacle, but the treetops beyond.
Thus did I learn from this idealist, now deceased
that though we dream of brighter futures,
without an eye on the ground,
we might see naught but headlights,
in the end.