Ice overtakes the unpeopled rocks
and robs them of contour.
The traveller draws the blinds
against this scentless view.
Where the road dwindles he’ll step out,
dismantle the coach, and climb
in the sedan’s cushioned nest to the peak.
His sketchbook is filled with vast
hellish scenes of rocks and nothing.
He takes his scenery
like his coffee, at a sit.
– from Ship of the Line (2014)