And drive

The last coffee
tastes
of lukewarm thermos
mudfine grounds
and acid regret
thin, brown
inescapable
as the underscream
of highwinding gears
needling through
the highway hum
of turning tires

Darkness wanes in
the rear view mirror
headlights
turn anemic
against the first glow
of a bare morning
my feet are cold through
faint whine of a heater
smelling of
overheated metal and old dust
inadequate
in the predawn chill

I recall
disappointed exhaustion
in your dark eyes
thin, brown
inescapable
try to swallow the memory
with the last coffee
and drive
and drive
and drive.