From "Apocalyptic Planet" by Craig Childs

“Facing the elemental fuel of life itself, you have to offer something.”

[In an extreme land or skyscape] "Some people say they feel small in places like this, their lives seeming insignificant in the face of geographic immensity. But rather than feeling small, I think it’s more a a total loss of any reference or scale. You are starting from scratch here, seeing the world as it is, not so much as you imagine it."

(Thanks Mom!)

Labor

It dawned on me
just before actual dawn:
there was no getting out
of getting him out.
I was in. Did I want out?
Not exactly, though
I wanted something not
how it was happening.
I wanted…the option?
I wanted to stall.
For it was the speed—
the hurtling, exactly—
that horrified me.
That named me passenger
in a car with no plates
and a rogue driver known
by no one.

I got the drugs. It got light out,
I got light. The relief
felt like fresh love.
It was fresh love.
I could’ve wept.
But in time, a new problem:
the stall I’d wanted
wouldn’t stop—meaning
neither of us was driving.

--me

That Little Something

The likelihood of ever finding is small.
It's like being accosted by a woman
And asked to help her look for a pearl
She lost right here in the street.

She could be making it all up,
Even her tears, you say to yourself
As you search under your feet,
Thinking, not in a million years...

It's one of those summer afternoons
When one needs a good excuse
To step out of a cool shade.
In the meantime, what ever became of her?

And why, years later, do you still,
Off and on, cast your eyes to the ground
As you hurry to some appointment
Where you are now certain to arrive late.

--Charles Simic

Nails it

the half-compassion and half-horror we feel for the creatures
             we want not to hurt       and prefer not to touch

Another one I'm linking to for formatting reasons.