driving darkness, a telestich

weak sun slung lowered,
across the interstate and longer
than i’d envisioned it would go. i
felt in the silence a former luv,
luv, lub. january clocks in flux. i
followed my instruction
as i heard it, as articulated turning
somewhat south toward
forest and eventually the river, a
demarcation splitting this
state and the next. the years a tick
and clip, an empty swing in
an opaque dark. now see me
in headlights over rumble strips,
vibration, stars, the empty fields