The Driver Lives

Evermore, returning in dream,
incomplete: the windshield,

passenger, snow falling
furtively in and through.

At first where
for all that is missing:

fluorescence, a mother’s embrace,
thick-red-blood pushed

by heart only.
Then the cool affirming wind,

the clarifying sighs of steel.
To unclick eyes - and belt.

Daniel Schillinger


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