below the horizon— Driving back
once more in the haze of evening,
it seems so simple— The engine
of intention presses forward
into the dark, the road unfurls
like breath. A line of white
reflects the right-hand border.
Steady at the wheel, all curves
taken in increments. At higher
speeds, the windshield stipples
with dusty ochre and green.
In response to small stone (132).