The Singing Shoulder
On concrete cold
flakes like shattered glass
fly into harsh headlights
of a 1977 Cougar.
Randy and I, like voyagers
sweating toques
navigate a stream of ice
hard as a Lloydminister night
black as the trees
passing uneasy
in January dark.
Wind and white whip the windshield
a thin membrane
between synthetic security and outer oblivion.
We are lost, Randy and I
only the pressing dark
and the 77 […]
