Glass Night
Come, warm rain
and cold snap,
come, car light
and country road
winding me around
dark's finger,
come, flash
of mailbox and sign,
and shine
of brush,
stubble and all
the lit lonely
windows wrapped
in the glass branches
of tree
after flying tree.
Come, moon-coated
snow hills, and flung
far ahead pole
by pole the long
glass cobweb
in my high beam
that carries me deeper.
Come, deeper
and mute dark
and speech of light.
Come, glass night.
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