They're still highways
That take you here,
But they seem less so.

Somewhat more like trails,
A hardpan of sorts,
Beaten through the hills.

They're still streetlights
That bring you to a stop,
Painting the wet streets in red.

Somewhat more like a twin dusk that
Demands hesitation, and patience,
To wait for the green dawn.

Echoing memories.
Singing along.
A sweet siren's song,
Beckoning in reverse.

A simple task,
Ignore the past.
Stay true to your course.

Coarse or fine,
Threaded divine;
Fascinating fasteners.

Dogs will bark,
The sun will rise
And, memories
still whisper.

I don’t need to say anything
You don’t need to say anything
That’s how it is now