Writer's Island: Over the Horizon

The Writer's Island prompt for this week is 'over the horizon'.  It was intended that we consider what our future might hold, however I took this prompt in a different direction.  This is a poem that has been sitting in my subconscious for a few years, ever since I moved to this city of steep hills and gullies.  At first I felt that the lack of expansive lines of sight also translated to a narrowness of thinking, however I later learned that was not the case at all.  Sorry, it's another Wellington poem!

Beyond Horizons

You can not rely
on horizons here.

Sure, the sun rises
over the mountains
to the East, light
appearing first
in prelude, but
Westwards she disappears
behind the ridge late
afternoon in summer,
earlier in June.

We can not take cues
from a line where
water meets sky, where
distant grass blends blue
into hazy light.

Instead we have to consider
the exact shade of pink on
the side of a scree slope
at dusk, the form of
clouds scudding by
overhead.

We, who lack the
privilege of broad
vision become crafty,
investigators of clues
left on the landscape and
observers of narrowed
lines of sight.