Two lanes and lost in tunes
turned up to drown out whirring
tires, right along with all the time
in this world—give me those days
again, those miles of dreams,
those backroads curled as smoke
against the hills, fading lines
in rearview sunsets. Keep the pedal
locked in motion, speed racer,
crack the windows and trust the wheels
to read signs as they come—
Stop
Caution
Yield