On the Road Into The Night

We passed into the future 

which did not try tomorrow,

of who was mine and who was yours

and how things ought to be.

The sky rose up a neon blue.

A moon etched there,

and Venus, too,

and you loved me and I loved you.

The Greeks said it was mad to drive

that stretch of road at night,

that bandits waited in the dark

and we might not survive.

But we were brave, or game, or brash.

Or stupid. I don't know.

An elephant went trumpeting

down into a ditch.

A truck had spilled its load

and lay abandoned on its side.

While off the road the country

grew darker than a hole.

Then we saw the lion

unmoving on the road,

dusty in the headlights.

His huge head had a powdered mane,

turning like a ghost,

as if his soul had ceased to know

the ground on which it stood.

Inside the car was hushed

with glowing dashboard lights.

You and I went creeping past.

His massive neck an arm away,

his back leg bent with grime.

He slunk along the edge.

Then I saw his hip-the gash,

a long dark lung of blood.

'He's been hit,' you said.

Your voice was soft inside the cab,

so low and close to me.

I felt it in my throat.

That's when I thought

that you were all

I'd ever needed

and never would I leave you.

Can you believe I thought that?

That we would always go

roaming brave and dangerous

on wild unlit roads?