Prose

Truck Lights

His rig was a trail of lights, turboed in the night.

The length of a city block, blazing through bush byways.

Over country causeways, down sweeping highways, through sleepy towns in a wide brown land.

He felt the push of trailers, between heel and toe, he nursed the pull of diesel at their head, on a dark and dreary night.

Down through the dippers the engine stuttered thunder, till he mumbled down the gears and swore all the way back up, again.

For when all we feel is the load, it takes a steady hand to keep us on the road.