Drive Uphill and Check Your Privilege (Hasn’t Completely Evaporated Yet)

The outdoor dullness of the spot
Makes it feel most real of the spots,

Including rocker or car seat,
Where you might sit and watch the light.

For whole quarter hours at a time
There are no machinery sounds.

The clouds are minding cloud business.
The snowmelt from earlier storms,

Patches still under junipers,
The dirt is slowly drying out

This privilege you work to keep,
This privilege you keep to live,

Just to be alone out of doors,
Doing the least you can to last.