First To Third Light In 30 Seconds

night yet clings yet smothers the numb highway breathe the wheel sigh through the gears wave-ride rubber after-shocks follow the beam-eyed light into the blossoming gray adjusts to blacktop rapids the sky is passing it is now ahead of itself convertible clouds weep dry tears slip-slide the slick dark banks with flickering wrists A second light blooms a small sun pastes itself onto distant white a hooded bonnet shakes like a wet wolf the horizon is now a mobile scaffolding the whispering tread of a fast coming daylight rushes into view, it snorts though a crystal vase that the mind grips tightly the roads blind ability to avoid Niagara or the Grand Canyon guides cold white knuckles the drunk rocking of a back axle warns you of a surfacing unpaved parking lot engine bones tick-over articulate shuddering full stops as they cough up stillness here at the end of one half of a minute and that is the third manifestation of breathable light