River drive. Radio talk.

Dashboard lights, yellow signs,

curves up ahead. Falling rocks,

hidden drives. It was Saturday night.

The clock says one. Been driving to

clear the space in my head. Free my

feet into go. Nothing to do but drive.


No telephone poles. No lights.

Houses dark with sleep. A few stray

leaves join me and the road. The

road has song. A curve with

rhythm. Left and right is home to

some. Not to me.


A lone stop light ahead. All caution

is fair. An empty road, a quiet sky;

red lights mean nothing out here.



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