A Drive Behind the Light
A dark road creaks, a crackling carapace of ice
under bruising rubber.
Driving to the all-nite store --- need antacids.
It's pre-dawn, an hour behind the light;
potholes dream in their black bunkers.
No one rides this deadened road,
no car beams, or open-eyes gleam
until the car drifts into
the low magnetic hum
of a forecourt.
The neon Mini Mart has sunk
inside an insane façade of purpose,
lost as it is, in an electric trance.
Nobody dwells here at this hour
only the heavy-eyed-blue-heron man.
After the purchase, he disappears
into a cubbyhole of shadows.
Back home, the grinding jaw
of a garage door
seems to awaken a lick of daylight,
not here, but in the back of my mind.
~~~
edit
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
