©2021 Michael Raven

these lonesome highways trailing
under head-beams into the forward night
hand and a hand in a hand we held
holding onto anything we can
moonlight silhouettes the treeline
that ghost-flicker shuffles periphery
you don't know me
but the wish it were was there
your hair, black in the night
you face aglow in the dashboard light
unaware of the stranger at your side
admiring the crooked smile
you never show
it would break your sad to know it
was painted on your kiss

and so, the drive the drive the drive
hand and a hand in a hand disguised
waiting for something to happen
on that lonesome highway