I tore

through the night,         radiated
with hazy street lamps,
strangers’ windows.

                      You were singing
music older than we,
                                 and I reached

for the bottle, took another sip.
Flashed a grin––

We were close,
weren’t we?

We found
creek silver, bridge black, trees that were
only shadow,
             this place it’s own ghost.

Stumbled our way
                          through it, not pausing
to hear the water talk.

You      just a shape in the dark
I could barely make out.

I started down a trail
going nowhere,

and went.


Car won’t start
without screaming out of the driveway.
Tires graze
garden, uneven street.

I can hold
the whole world on my shoulders,
as long as the light’s good.

The black freeway, a live
wire.                    All I’ve ever wanted
to hold.

You in the passenger seat,
rubbing your hands. Skipping
songs, watching the road.

Your face white
at the intersection. I want
to know how long

it will take.
                  This could be

killing me. I am

clearing the hill now, soon
I will see.