NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-four

This image hit me on the way home.

driving home

the houses run through the trees
to meet those driving home.
they may not know the journey,
carefully matching the
straight and turning pavement
with the lean of the car
but they bide and welcome.
the yellow eyes in the woods
unblinking, watching, waiting
can they call out the
one set of tires, the
singular motor,
the muffled radio
knowing the one they seek
The houses run through the night
lights weaving through the trees
then back to its normal perch
and it opens a door, come in!

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