Hollows of SR-46 (2002)

Driving home tonight
I trespass my darker state.
I’m weary and migrained,
drained close to empty from
a hard day of job and school.
I just want to be home and next
to you, but first I must cross
this low and lonely night.
The road beyond my headlights
is crowded by dark dominions,
a starry sky leeching down
on blacker scrub. Out there on
some chewed rise a cow’s skull
serves as moon, coldly glazed
in sour star milk, sockets hauling
down the night in its black gaze.
Drive on, drive through.
Simply Red’s “Holding Back
The Years” on the radio,
ticking off the miles. I’m coming
home, my love, almost there;
a few more turns through
this black bear of a night.
Thank God for the rude
throttle of this homebound car.
And thank a greater God that you’re
waiting up for me in the alternate
ending to this night, waiting in a
bright house far enough from here
to make dark crossings dreadful
and all homecomings dear.