4am (Poem)

Driving down the deserted blackened highway at 4am, November 12th on that cold Sunday night. The sunroof open to view a starlet sky, do you remember the song playing through the speakers surrounding us in a hue of warm hearted nostalgia?


The reflection in the glass from the front headlights casting an other worldly glow in your eyes. It was 35 degrees on a 70 mile per hour highway and I was going 85. The other day you complained about the broken heater, but in that ride it was the furthest from our minds. I could feel your heat from my right side and from your left you felt mine. Yesterday’s concerns, broken words and lessons learned all passing by with the highway lines.


You leaned your seat back and stretched your legs out, raising your arms above your head. The seatbelt wrapped around the slimness of your frame, shadows playing tag over your moonlit brightened skin. A mere sideways glance and suddenly the road wasn’t the only thing hypnotizing me then. I didn’t know where we were going, but the beginning would never end. You and I, a sign of the times, making our own roads on the blackened streets at 4am 🍂



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