Alone on the Road Headed Home

Hours to sift through the memories
Like photos in boxes

Faded as old Kodachrome, dogeared

Images too precious, too painful, to be examined in public

Waves of warm melancholy, serene and familiar

To accompany the night

No need to explain the laughter

No reason to speak to the tears

Just let them flow, interchangeably

And drive

Or hours to put the boxes away
Set all thought aside for the ride

Retreat from the memories, surrender

And merely follow the highway

Focused only on white lines and the orderly flow of traffic

Shut off but for the occasional shadow

Or courteous flash of running lights

Sparse encounters, forgettable

But just enough to break the hypnosis of turn signals

And the soothing monotony of mile markers