Black Ice Snake
The morning was painted with a frigid brush.
The car gargled up a February moon.
I had the early A.M road all to myself.
Almost.
A death wish in a pick-up was gaining ground in large chunks.
Together we entered the throat of the black ice snake.
We were side by side for a few terrorized seconds.
His red eyes disappeared over an asphalt bluff.
On the commute home, the black ice was seduced by salt
It almost felt pleasant.
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