The music on the radio is inane.
I could scratch-but I trimmed the mane.
Instead, I have my stare on tail lights catching reflector streaks trace through the dark.
I almost miss the car that has stalled in my lane-no lights.
The final turn feels long in the dark. The dark feels deeper with no lights-another outage.
Through the curtains a faint light shines-home.
Le Ciel est Bleu 