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Click hereShe drives through the dark,
Coppery guilt lies complacent on her tongue.
The chrome bumper crushes the wind and
White noise edges through
The window slit.
A mile and more away,
The boy is wakeful in his bed.
Once he flew with new-sneaker grace,
Now his shoes
will never show wear.
On the breeze that
Shivers the sheer curtain
Comes one unending chord:
Truck tires trombone and car tires cornet
Along the highway.