11.44. The minutes
on the waiting end begin to drag.
Out there under staring planets
and a billion blinking stars,
the children let their magic lag
against the tide like waterlilies,
all of them drifting the innocent
dark immortal as Achilles
dipped in gasoline. Their cars
are marking time. For now,
up powers of the cosmos gather
shadows on cold metallic flanks
that never shiver, never lather,
never frighten, never care.
Windshields glitter where the
late moon banks
its climb. 11.57.
On the starless ceiling overhead
a glimmer from the light left on
outside plays movies of despair,
stories of god-awfully dead
children of other mothers, bodies
of the most impossible grief
forever asking where God was -- ?
Out there eternity tires.
The night's old hat. Cars come
and up leaps the road in the blind
fingers. The distance ahead
like a wake parting the winedark
pinewoods, glimpsing the deer's
neon eyes. The precious thread
its course, one curve after another,
and leaves a trail of ghostwritten
in the red exhaust that smothers
all. Headlights flood the room.
they are! The dog barks. 12.06.