long haul heavy and low, steep grade


all those dark nights
with stars snowed in, always the mirror was black;
pointed pins of light
towards or away swimming and winking beneath the ink
oh how bright my rearview is! oh how sharp and clear
I can see behind me now with brights blasting strong

oh how sharp
and clear the irony! of the dark road afore me
seen with the crystal eyes forsaken
of their
weary cataract foresight, finally and true (perhaps)
of that
I secretly
hope it’s anything but; maybe just
a truck in the dark)

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