Crossing Illinois at Night
We’re driving one night, a few miles outside Granite where the dark is at its thickest.
The sky and land in almost perfect unison but for the stars.
We drive this quiet chasm,
this throat in the womb,
this funeral for hours,
this polite madness; the politics
of light and dark.
Our miles become indifferent to the thoughts of yesterday and by the glow of the dashboard we slowly start to realize how tomorrow is born.