Driving in the Dark
Driving in the Dark
Boasting of 40 years training in graveled ruts,with the Mustang’s windows down to hear oncoming cars,cleaving as a pagan in the dark to ancient judgmentswhen the surge for survival tingles the scalp,flaring nostrils, widening visions of moon-drenched leavesand scurrying creatures in black bottomless voids,but screaming friends demand the lighting of the headlight beams.
And once when the old Chevy fan belt broke at night:the radio sputtered, the heater flattered, and the headlights died.I followed the red lights of the car in front of me.The driver felt a presence behind him, winking in his reddened glow.He sped up. I needed to keep close. He floored his Cadillac.I think we hit 95 before an exit let me leavehim wondering who tried to frighten him into giving up his sins.
This must be how death summons us to unknown landscapes;no sounds of gravel, no moon, no steering wheel,no friends to impress, no heart beat to rally, driving in the dark to a brighter light.
Boasting of 40 years training in graveled ruts,with the Mustang’s windows down to hear oncoming cars,cleaving as a pagan in the dark to ancient judgmentswhen the surge for survival tingles the scalp,flaring nostrils, widening visions of moon-drenched leavesand scurrying creatures in black bottomless voids,but screaming friends demand the lighting of the headlight beams.
And once when the old Chevy fan belt broke at night:the radio sputtered, the heater flattered, and the headlights died.I followed the red lights of the car in front of me.The driver felt a presence behind him, winking in his reddened glow.He sped up. I needed to keep close. He floored his Cadillac.I think we hit 95 before an exit let me leavehim wondering who tried to frighten him into giving up his sins.
This must be how death summons us to unknown landscapes;no sounds of gravel, no moon, no steering wheel,no friends to impress, no heart beat to rally, driving in the dark to a brighter light.
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