Your chest shook
in your flannel shirt;
you were a rattle,
jabbering on about the car,
the traffic, and weather.
I did not care
if it was overcast
or if we were stranded
in the rush hour standstill.
We left early enough
not to worry about mirages.
I could have bathed
myself in your saucer eyes,
glinting over me driving
and the landscape blurring
behind us. You smiled,
full of happy secrets
and plans. I only knew
because you held my hand,
squeezing with every heavy
sigh after hours of miles.
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