2.17.2015

The Driver's Question

it is addressed thusly:
A vision.
it reads:
Light snow, and each passing lamp
Has caught itself inside
A flake, an unmistakable stamp
To flash in, flash out, collide;
We who must travel, we confess
Amid the slick and careening cars
We pass as into a field of stars
Do we go then into nothingness?

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