That darkened path
Of rain drenched asphalt
Is all there lay ahead – except
For momentary peripheral glimpses
Of the overbearing forestry
That frames the meandering road,
Bringing only the slightest trace
Of color to the noir scene.
The hills hold a mountainous
Enormity in the severe storm
Reigning down. A constant rough
Wave slamming the old Chevy
Like powerful woodland whitecaps.
The storm, raging on, spells danger,
But it smells of a hopeful spring.
Transcendent beauty in the danger
Played poignantly by the slow and steady
Fall of each meticulously precious drop
Of rain on the percussive cab top.
Traction disappears, the slick road winding.
The melodious rain is muted,
Anxiety emanating behind the wheel.
The truck regains its intended path,
The rain drops fade back in. Reality of
Returning home just became too much for him,
Driving his old Chevy down
That darkened path.