Casual Hero
The light would be so blindinghe wouldn't remember the drive,
the insistent veering of traffic
like spawning salmon,
he wouldn't remember the lunch
he had packed or the warm tea
in his stomach, he wouldn't remember
the dark house he had left,
its ticking living room clock,
its sleeping, beautiful breaths,
he wouldn't remember the years
in his seat like layers of silt
that had crusted to old bone
and tasted now of antacids --
he would remember nothing
but the piercing light, the rising
shadow of a mountain,
the near silent wake of his car
as it swept the dawn's air
into a perfect mirror of night.
posted by the shadow waters @ 7:15 PM
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