The Exit Nearest Home

Another night driving 

northbound up the highway.

No thing but me, the lights

center-highway and what's left of

the clouds; painted on the 

ground, a luminescent reflection.

There was another car

behind me. Took the nearest exit

home I would assume, 

considering the time it was.

Secluded for a few minutes

down the highway, 

it's one of the ways home.

There's another car, up ahead

merging onto the desolated pavement of

these highways with its high-mast lighting 

poles spread for miles, accompanied by 

the incorporated sounds of stereo and wind whistling on and the 

occasional bumps of the highway to keep tempo

of its new release single, "Desolation".

I wonder, at the driver of the car is he

calling it a night, and headed home?

Or just getting started with the day?

Cup of coffee in one hand, steering wheel

in the other, stereo as loud as can be

because the coffee isn't just what it

used to be. Wishing, you had

slept an extra hour or at least

five minutes, that would have been just

perfect, considering the time it was.

Here's my nearest exit home, in a

neighborhood where people roam

wistfully down the streets for God knows 

what reasons. Maybe they just can't sleep or haven't

slept in a couple of days or maybe they

simply have no other way of transportation,

so they walk to their destination. Who knows, 

considering what time it was.

Here I am, at my desk, in front of the TV which

I rarely watch but when I do I can't get enough of

and binge watch until the sun gently breaks through 

these silky golden brown drapes to bid me 

a good morning. Then I know it's time to get some

rest, for at this point it's far from a goodnight. 

So I say good morning, and a goodnight just in case

the sun is listening or the neighboring birds 

of whom which despite their cold, windy 

situation outside, never fail

to sing their song, considering the time.