Into the South

The road south leaf-flooded behind,
dark-winding and memory-thick,
as you camera-captured the way
light peace-danced along the pines.

I’d known you seven years or maybe six,
but lately, you seemed closer—
a footfall I could count on,
a heart-heavy warmth.

Despite myself, I kept quiet,
let the quiet car-stretch on.
How words othered themselves from us,
how distance itself spoke soft.

Yes, you glanced over sometimes,
maybe to check my peace-bound silence.
But I was busy counting light,
how it industry-goldened the late hours.

We traveled on, speech-twined and without words,
until the entire world was us

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