while the wind howled at his tombstone

i got into the car
and there was nothing
between me and the night
there were no dogs on the road
and no lights coming my way
it was over
she was staying
and i was free
the highway was screaming
and it's night song beneath me
the miles were tragic things
as they raced by
in a blur of light
the radio was loud
and noise without music
the only music 
was the night
the horns slipped away
dawn came up
like a coward's night light
it crouched in the distance
among the trees
waiting for me to surrender
i would have no part of it
i hit the gas harder
pointed the beast
into the dark that remained
and turned the radio louder
that was everything
drown it all out
nothing but the sound
of the engine
and
the wind whistling
i stopped
at a truck stop
to fill up
bacon and eggs
and home fries
and dreams
the waitress was smiling
men were looking at her legs
and it didn't matter
a tinker's dream
because the car was waiting
and the highway was clear
i made it back to the road
watched the morning roll in
the wind dance by
my windows

while the wind howled at his tombstone

from

sometimes passion, sometimes pain

Copyright©michael dennis/Ordinary Press 
Peterborough, Ontario
1982

back to the view from a bank street apartment

michael dennis home