Issue
#9 

a poem by Jason Huskey

Unmarked Pavement Ahead  

I feel the blood now,
rushing through the stain
of flesh.  The residue of trust
coming into view as I grip
the wheel tighter.  Anger flushes
the memory of a gold ring,
but I try my best to bury
what the finger no longer holds.
I imagine you spiritually closer
as the lonely mile markers announce
one click less.  One click less--
the mortar of fear is the anticipation
of reconciliation, or else,
when we meet again.

When we meet again,
twenty-nine and now twenty-eight
and counting--courting the very road
that consumes a hundred lives yearly.
Breathless, stone awaits all.
Some earlier than most.
You will address neither highway
nor the cold lay of a cross--
when like a butterfly
and her iridescent wings,
I command a yawn
that will silence the world. 

© by Jason Huskey
 
Gutter Eloquence Magazine ~ Issue #9 ~ May 2010