Were my car watertight

I would ride awash
In tears
Into the hills
And back
These many years
Landslides
Windstorms
Earthquakes
Road closures
Illness
And death
Someday
There may be closure
But until then
Up and down
There and back
Pavlovian
Round the curves
Blind
With tears

Starting over

An open wound
A festering sore
Every jolt
A holiday
A memory
A garment
Brings an excruciating
Pang
An ache
That courses
To the fingertips
Grabs your throat
Brims eyes
Until you swallow it back
Or cry
And go on
And start over

Night in the city

On a clouded night
The stars are grounded
Constellations of streetlights
Illuminate the blank faces of buildings
Darkened windows
Inhabitants sleeping
Unless insomniacs wander
Window to window
Regarding silent streets
Puddles reflecting
Faceless buildings
A single window lit
From within
A reminder
That we are still alive