It’s not the secrets you tell
but those you keep
tucked inside
that little wooden box hidden under the bed
or behind the books on the shelf in the hallway.
What whispers
do you share only with your eyes and hands
but not with me?
I can hear you thinking
and see that look behind your blue eyes.
You have journeyed far away from me.
I reach for your hand to draw you back-
smell the scent of diesel and blacktop-
I hear the distant rumble of thunder.
Diesel and Blacktop
13