Before Dawn, Stoplights
Flash, Late August Skies Repeat
Fall’s Coral Rumors
Telephone Wires Drawn
In Orange Above Sunrise
Polished, Empty Streets
Sun Silvered Blacktop
Cleaves High Corn Below Blue Haze
At Summer’s Far End
Two Years of Driving
This Road In My Mind With You
Tonight Actually There
Shocking Accident,
My Presence Now, And Yours Then,
At The Tree’s Scarred Base
We Both Have Gone On
But Only I Can Return
And Wonder Why…