Take me back through
narrow forest roads ,sloped close
The way that light breaks in, beautiful golden streamers
I am a passenger and I am halfway
between floating, halfway between falling
down the mountainside as you drive
along the ridge but I am so safe
In These woods that are dense with vine and mystery
I don’t know yet that
My memory will be thick and slow with years of kicking the tires to prove its still good despite the trespasses—theirs—
and the alcohol—mine—gone but not forgotten
I don’t know yet that I’ll be searching but,
Not know how to find the forest pass … still
I will miss believing someone’s steady hands were on the wheel.
That someone knew where we were going.
That someone else believed we were going to make it home.