I drive beneath the overpass
the final sign 396
Lincoln fades into the clouds
the horizon envelopes me

the hills bow down to rise again
the trees grow dense, a final stand
enter in the open sky
where sea and stone and flesh are one

.  .  .

as the open windows roar
sixty five into the night
flying gravel, dust, sweat
I check that I’m still breathing

like the clouds ten miles deep
block the million year old light
stars unneeded shine in vain
I am silent in my song