Testo Myths Come True

Returning home, Odysseus rides the ferry at night. I finally return to the end of our long road. There's been weather again. There's debris on the mud beneath tires, clawed down by a sky unloading, and I see a cutting reflection of something I don't recognize through the dark trunks. I go out into it to look. Technology metal of an abandoned FedEx truck stuck in the mud where the stream overflows the ditch in storms like this. An empty omen left out in the rain. I walk back to the house with no headlamp. Just gravel and my animal brain.
Here it is again:

Returning to the warm house from the wet night
I left one round light on in the top room
Insistent blunt symbols recur throughout my life
A glow mythology
A cyclops walks across the sky One window glowing in the forest
Is there a song on the wind?
I must have made myself this beacon
I must have known it would be like this
Belief slips in to my thinking
And I'm familiar with nothing at all
Myths come true