I'm shivering,
Listening,
Singing softly.
My voice projects.
I'm breathing deeply.
Words leave my lips
Like ghosts,
Only visible when their clouds
Condense on the windshield,
Expanding then dissipating.

Alone at last,
I make sense apart from busyness,
Singing,
"From time to time I'll pass on by,
But I will never stay."
Because everyone is singing about California,
So certain that their happiness resides in a place,
And chilled to the bone that night,
I'm happy in my sadness,
In my inability to settle where I'm busy
Nor while I'm sitting there
Singing and idling.

I turn the key
For perfect silence
And enjoy the steep drop,
Departing just before freeze.