The four that passes at 1110
Is always Jones returning drunk again
The Chevrolet at quarter after 12
Belongs to someone else
I've memorized the pattern of the street
Each engine's pitch,
each timing of retreat The way they cross from Westwall to the East
Like migrating bees I'm watching headlights on the ceiling
Casting prayers in moving light Every set could be your wheels
And this could be the one tonight
The neighbors think their comings and their goings
Are private as the dark
But I've become an expert in the showing
of each arc
There's one that slows,
my chest goes tight and still
And carries on past our address until Someone else's vigil,
someone else's will
To climb this hill I'm watching headlights on the ceiling
Casting prayers in moving light Every set could be your wheels
And this could be the one tonight
Three traffic stops before I'm still awake
Five there's just dark
and all my small mistakes