Night Drive
The
moon keeps me company
long after the boys
fall silent
and the radio
dissolves
into static.
Fog blurs the edges of the night.
I grip the wheel,
headlights scatter
suspended prisms.
The creased map reveals
two hundred miles between
this moment and safety.
Eyes resolve
out of blackness,
challenge my right of way.
I swerve across the center line,
sense the curve
of an arched spine.
Feline disdain
follows me in the rear-view mirror.
The hunter stretches,
pads deliberately across
the oncoming lane.
A limp
shadow sways from it’s mouth
as I increase the distance
between us.