These hills have their eye on me.

Mother nature in all her glory,

Sure to remind me I’m not alone,
Deep in the waterless sea of no light.

Even as everyone sleeps, 

Soundly in their beds, 

Away from her presence.

Her black dress eloping
where light once painted a different picture. 
The beauty of the land turns
to ominous rock carvings in hills with no end in sight.
The trees, the plants,
Painfully, desperately reaching upward,
To a sky with no sun,
Like hands in pain, unable to crane the ache away.
Crooning their silence in a cool, dark twilight.
If you stare too long,
You might be entranced.
If you get too distracted, 
She may reclaim you.
I’ve seen first-hand what she can do. 
When she calls upon you,
In your tired state,
All wheels rolling faster than law allows,
Alone inside a structure, 
Always with our comforts in our mobile boxes,
She lusts for you. 
She shines her moon, so bright,
You forget you’re driving.
Never reluctant to expose her forms.
A deer. Three.
An owl overhead. 
A bat, a foot away from your windshield,
Rolling past faster than it stands a chance to fly.
The insect innards on the glass,
Her bold painting touching upon the themes of mortality,
Smeared inches from your eyes.
A snake, slithering across the opposite lane,
Looking for something unsuspecting of its will to cause pain.
HEADLIGHTS!

Brakes screech.

Hearts beat.

No need for an insurance agent.

Relief.

She almost got you,  didn’t she?