my mind wanders when driving.
driving.
lights bend in the fog
mailboxes flash reflect
thoughts wander
‘when might I see you again?’
around that next corner
around the bend
not likely
for you are dead.
I can only hope
that flame ignite
to immolate, yes, immolate this dread of passing.
one day, from then, then to seek
your light
a torch, so I might bear
lead me down some other path
and there
we shall meet again
and talk
of common times
in common tongues
in a new place
outside of time