Night Drive

Lunar shadows, dapple darkened highways,

in negative wonder.

Black shapes bob, rippling the glassy calm,

gently waving the laps.

Ray LaMontagne is leaving New York,

bringing his soul to me.

A lover’s message, lights the cabin

and my heart flies to her.

The intermittent white line keeps time;

She loves me, she loves me not,

She loves me, she loves me not……..