driving into and
through the mountains

for weeks meandering
on this road or that.

you crest the hill in the
dusted, distant sunlight

ahead the road looks like a
piece of string laid out in the dirt

in the bottom of that valley a storm
cutting a mountain at the base.

the day feels as empty as the world
no one and nothing else around

you descend into it
the storm, that string and you

knowing that down there
it's going to get bad.