Night descends on padded feet,
Black panther soul,
She lets down her hair,
A cascade of silken black showers the valley below,
Somewhere along a deserted highway,
We find ourselves weary travelers,
Three days on the road and you don’t talk to me,
Was it something I said, was it someone I mistakenly looked at?
Anger has been bubbling up deep inside you and
the silence is breaking the borders of my heart,
We don’t pass words between us
But I understand that you
are somewhere out there
Lost and trying to find your way back
A place called home,
Night,
That bewitching lady smiles
Benovolent
Radiant moonbeams to light our way
To the next roadside attraction to coffee break.
The low hum of a car engine beating tune to faint radio signals