Older Now

Lights

 

You grip the steering wheel just a little tighter,

and we plunge into the semi-darkness of the tunnel.

The weight of a mountain presses close around us

as we fling our way through the heart of the earth

at sixty miles an hour

and the lights, beacons spaced evenly in the dark,

flash past.

I close my eyes and imagine

that days and nights are passing by

each time the light washes against my eyelids.

I slip into the stream of time,

a quick succession.

When we emerge from the tunnel,

how much time has passed?

How many days and nights?

I’m older now by far.

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