Thought it was Over

Thought it was over. It isn’t. A call,
A telephone call late at night. Prepare
Once again up and out with the curfew dawn
Yawning in the windshield, searching the night

Another paper cup of coffee for the road
The last breakfast biscuit at the gas stop
Three days out of date. It’s embalmed by now
Lines for gas, only there isn’t any gas

Lines for ice, lines for food, roads flooded out
Thought it was over. The coffee is cold