the windows are down
and so is the sun.
the two lane curves
i cling to
wreak of honeysuckle
and a fresh squished skunk.
the radio reminds me
i’m getting to be an oldie
and there ain’t a soul stirring,
Saturday night or no.
there ain’t a set of headlights
in sight,

but the lightning bugs
blink out a clear path
to remind me i’m not alone
all the way home.