As Fast as the Curves Allow

Free Verse

I drive as fast as the curves allow, like a hairline fracture in a mirror tapping on the brakes

who can recall somewhere layered, somewhere rough, down this western road I veer.

As heaven is to sky, I miss someone old — I see her dance from shade to sun striped in caramel and gold.

The past flies by in shadows as dark as charcoal pearls asleep in oyster flesh, so

I endure but I did not belong.

Hot winds strip down the afternoon on a road paved with obsidian and second chances…

I drive as fast as the curves allow, past signposts, fragments, and remembrances.