Driving Away Poem by Tony Walton

I am writing this behind your back,
actually in the passenger seat
beside you,

and we are driving towards
the horizon for days
floating to the southern parts
of the country
out of soft dawns

At night we disappear in a haze of
random rooms of liquored mirrors
Two shirttails in the wind
Waking in the mornings
to maddened birds and sunlight

adrift, moorings cut
sweeping out to unpaved places
barely discernible from a distance
a mirage, soon disappearing now

driving to a place where we
invent our own ending
that comes out right.