Traveling

Traveling across the west
her truck, her dog, her old down vest
the jeans she wears ‘most all the time
a cotton shirt, a road-trip rhyme,
She and I are friends, not lovers
but sometimes underneath the covers
we pretend that we are
wishing on the same faint star,

Sends a note from Utah's road
names a place, a common node
where we should meet, convalesce
what that means I only guess,
I mark the point, circle the date
that faint star, uncertain fate
super nova or black hole
either way her truck tires roll,

Either way we both relish
words that we both embellish
reading oft' between the lines
along the road those warning signs,
That we both bliss'ly ignore
something deep in our core
particles in the Hadron Collider
fitting together like a perfect miter ....