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.
Middle of Nowhere
The highway
late at night or
early in the morning
nothing but
some cars here and there
music or voices
-hello
-how are you
the middle of nowhere
someone’s somewhere
but not ours
the lull
far away
asleep behind
the wheel
-hello
-i love you