Hazy Shades
A Shadowland Poem
Spring in winter
as snow dissolves into fog
squeezing trees from view
and roads into oblivion.
Headlamps careening
over dewy pavement
as hopeful hands
grip the wheel.
There is no control here.
Aware of only what lies
just ahead of the prow
of this machine in the night.
Grumble-dragging along
with a trunk full of baggage
haggard sagging lids
strain to hold the line.
It’s been far too long
for this wayward lover.
An atlas of woe
in the side pocket.
Hazy shades of beige
croon through the speakers.
Tight-lipped grin pries
through sinful troughs of thought.
White line white line white line
passing one two three
reflectors like raccoon eyes
betray the brakes roadside
as dusk and drizzle
confuse this captain.
Pressing through the
weeping winter water.
Up the stairs
a scent shrouds the senses.
A paltry amount of fear
palpable only to the tongue
licking the dry miles
away as he ascends.
Hands dance
as hair lands against the breath.
Waves of blankets await
to be pushed back.
Feet clamor for purchase
as he dives
into the labyrinth
on the floor of an ocean.
A release as he enters
a hot spring at depth.
Thumbs in creases
a gentle pull.
Eyes open and close
and closer still.
Ambient moon through drapes
as a whirring stirs slumber.
Hands and hair
and closer still.
Looking up at the dusk drawn ceiling
floating in a realm
new to the traveler.
Heart slows
breath slows
heat slows
he knows
the days are up from here.
