i am driving into the sunset,
it's intensity is shrouded by pines & birch.

heaven is made of islands,
golden & afire-
they are illuminated by
good wishes & good deeds
gone to sleep.

the road winds deeper into the hills
/ the trees become dense.
i turn on my head lights
/ they cut into the dark.

the islands are swallowed
by monsoons,
by typhoons-
by hurricanes
with the names
of all the bad girls and boys
who don't wash their hands
or eat their dinner.

until...

the night comes quick
& the islands are all washed away.