A Few Miles Out of Laurel

I snuck out my girlfriend's window
to have the purple sky
of a witching hour storm all to myself

I walked in the eye of it
feeling its heavy rustle spread
across the flooded farmlands

the river's clamor no longer
had the beer bottle joy
of nights around the fire:
everything had fled

the fields smelled of an earthy petrichor
I heard a horse's grouchy whinny
or maybe thunder

I thought I'd get driving

my wrist still knows
how to slip the clutch
of that old pickup truck

I carry that feeling with me still:
my own big sky inside me

In life there are no second chances
there are a multitude of chances
every moment, every day, every year

That was when I promised myself that
I would have nothing and go far

I've been chasing beauty ever since