Mile Zero

From the perch of Lookout Rock,
The sun is swallowed by the sky
In a nuclear explosion of fire.

Then, looking away toward the East,
The sky is a lonely phantom
Slinking into Neptune's purple depths.

A marker reading zero
Stands alone on the island tip,
The first inch of an thousand-mile view.

Sands that wash upon the shore
Have shifted from continents that
Change shape every few million years.

And the mile that begins here
Is the same mile from an island
That was born a million years before.

Stars, that have taken light-years
To kiss the waves that shear the beach,
Are shining on the lonely marker.

And from the perch, Lookout Rock,
I climb down to the cool, damp sand.
And from Mile Zero—start my journey.