3304. I DROVE THE SEDAN

I DROVE THE SEDAN
I drove the sedan that went right past
your mountain house, the gulch in the
gully, the wandering curve in the road.
I saw the swans on McAfee Road, and
the pond alongside Albion Hall. It was
all I could do not to stop. Simply stalled,
like that, I would have had nothing to
show for all that went before.
-
The red on the barn, I noted, had faded;
a less-intense and fiery red, a dimmer
version of the hue, the same sort of
flame a dying ember throws, a marker
cast down on a charcoal-filled earth.
I shuddered in thinking, here again,
of all the things I might have passed.

-

And then I read your words, making

me happy and sad together - how my

words made pictures in your mind,

and how emotions were awakened

that you could recognize. I loved

those words, and tried to thank

you for them though I failed.

-

I drove the sedan that went past

your mountain house - two doors,

four wheels, and all my mounting

and trying with it. Just as I passed,

in your window was a well-lit love.