Remnant heat in flickering pools

below the horizon— Driving back
once more in the haze of evening,

it seems so simple— The engine
of intention presses forward
into the dark, the road unfurls

like breath. A line of white
reflects the right-hand border.
Steady at the wheel, all curves

taken in increments. At higher
speeds, the windshield stipples
with dusty ochre and green.


In response to small stone (132).

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.