Yellow Lines

Yellow lines
stretch and yawn in the darkness
unworried by the tires’ consuming hum –
uninterested
uncomplicated
black pavement
blue dashlights -
you are quiet.
Breathing enough for me not to worry
dreaming of better places
or freedom, perhaps
of space–open, airy, unmoving.
Or maybe you’re too exhausted for all that.
I would be.
And yet
still
it’s all right.
You’re here.