• The sky hangs low over the ‘20s rest stop
    A single cloud frozen in one place
    Casting a shadow over the shop
    Darkening the one already on her face

    Her fingers run through her straw colored hair
    The dust dances along with white lace dress
    Her face, half-hidden, shows her clear dispair
    She’s a classic damsel in distress

    Her thundercloud eyes are down pouring rain
    Once pale cheeks now splattered with red
    She fixes her hair in the window, remaining vain
    The wind blowing the golden threads

    I’m watching over the rusted hood of my car
    One half of me shifts forward, to go to her aide
    The other stays in place, determined not to go far
    And unconvinced by her masquerade

    “This’ll sound weird”
    She says, suddenly by my side
    I hadn’t even noticed she had disappeared
    “I need a ride.”

    She’s in the passenger seat
    Her face is blank, mine focused, hiding clear defeat

    I slow, carefully, at the first hotel I see
    She shakes her head, “Keep driving.”
    I open my mouth to disagree
    My unspoken complaint replied with a sighed “Keep driving”

    Another half hour passes

    And another hotel

    And another rest stop

    All passed with a single “Keep driving”