The long, white road stretches before me.
Here, where mountains have hair
And clouds are low enough to sit in the trees,
I remember a little girl with big beautiful eyes
Who would never sleep on long journeys.
I see her now
In the raindrops clinging to the car windows.
We watch red soil and young trees bending in the wind and rain
Rush past in shadows.
Cold air makes us hug tighter.
I have become her.
She blinks back at me
And I realize the sky’s heavy black fur has given way
To a peaceful night blue.
I smile to myself and I realize
It gently mimics the moon’s.