"Drive !" he said

Frozen in thought . . .
the silver gray moon
bends the sun's will
toward an earthly gravel grave
in a Walker County strip pit

It was only yesterday . . .
when the Cougar Eliminator
prowled the highways
of disappearing white stripes
seeking out a Crescent City moon
that lay naked in the bending arms
of it's watery lover

"Drive !" he said . . .
so I hit the pedal hard
spinning tires
and burning up the moments
in haste
that I would someday regret
throwing to the stars

Like a wolf howls at the moon . . .
we howled at our youth
so far from home
unaware
we were truly all alone
in the bent light of our folly

The horizon cradled the moon . . .
slipping beyond the bridges
of our possibilities
and thinking of Macbeth
blowing out his candles

"Drive !" he said . . .
life is a stage
a four lane highway
going forward measured
by our distance
divided by our time
we are so defined

I have driven to the moon . . .
collected sunbeams
and bent the light
then drove back
howling . . .
with a midnight's voice
warm in the
South by Southwest winds

So . . . I will drive on