The light on the road
to Chicago turns us
toward each other,
stories full
in our mouths.
There is room
in the Volkswagen
for what we need,
growing in the music
of Al Green and Norah Jones.
Reaching ahead of our
selves, we hold hands
as the dusk settles
her skirt around us, we
look for a bed in the dark.
The car empty
of all but the moon
we dream, in Chicago
more jazz
less blues.
(From Music for Men Over Fifty; Songs of Love and Surgery)