couples holding hands in the dark walking
as my car slides by with joe turner
in radio singing
time laughs in the back seat
startles me as my hands fly around the steering wheel
like the heat blowing from the vents
can't see any faces as bodies move
in headlights shadows
counting a few steps
into silence of the street
the speedometer doesn't work
but the speed has already spoke
its profound movements past
every moment then and now
inside the rear view mirror
speaking volumes
at least as loud as any night
i've ever heard
blowing past my face
knowing nothing ever comes back
but now i'm still dancing
P.S.
smokey conversation
brings lightning
through the window
an engine stalls out
in the parking lot
the driver
tears her skirt
coming through the door
my friend bill
lights another cigarette
as i move ashtray
nearer to his arm
the raindrops on the glass
appear to glisten
while the girl asks the bartender
about her car
not much business
on a night like this
everyone just
quiet somewhere
the rain increases
making different designs
sounds and rhythm like dance steps
the bartender
lends the girl his phone
smiles through tangled hair
and touches his lip
my friend bill
stubs out his cigarette
the grey ash rests
then falls
voices like shadows
come apart
and back together
again all at once
*
I am in the passenger's seat. Totally present.
Nice capture. Really nice.
Thanks very much Jerry and Dianne.
I hear a distant bluesy sax noodling along with these scenes, mocking the lonely night.
"every moment then and now
inside the rear view mirror
speaking volumes
at least as loud as any night
i've ever heard
blowing past my face
knowing nothing ever comes back
but now i'm still dancing"
Wow to this amazing moment in your poem. Great work.
I read it this morning at a crossroads - Zagajewski & Heraclitus:
Adam Zagajewski's tiny, perfect image-poem, "Auto Mirror"
"In the rear-view mirror suddenly
I saw the bulk of the Beauvais Cathedral
great things dwell in small ones
for a moment."
&
And words live by:
“No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man.”
*
Many thanks to Matt and Sam. Nice words to live by.
Enjoyed.
Thank you Gary.
I missed P.S. my first time here. (I thought the word "Smokey" in the title referred to a musician.)
I admire P.S. too. I can see and hear the rain, smell the smoke and the bar, see the people. I love "everyone just quiet somewhere." Moody. Nice.
Thanks so much, Dianne.