Haven’t you heard the effect of peepers zooming by in the night?
I wanted to write you words tonight
driving home from work, after a movie
but I watched the world instead.
The highway rolled by, familiar,
random red dots leading me on,
behind, beads strung across
the mirror, those urging me on.
In town, a sideview glance
confirmed the green as I passed.
Why do I always look?
Then miles more of two lane but
the old car’s rumblings can’t
conceal the Doppler waves of peepers
passing in the springtide.
In the dark driveway,
April uncertainty shrugged off by
Orion, he sits on the rim of the world
pondering his journey while I
fetch the mail and go inside.