Virulent Bend Poem by Nicholas Alahverdian

I envisage this highway's zigzag arc:
Driving on a quarter clock
The passenger seat is not empty
But no one is really there.

In the mirror I see no gleam:
Driving more miles
Though going nowhere
Now as never before:

Frigid rime from a summery breeze
"Nonsense! " I cried to no soul;
Yet two ears hear, and now
I know, I know, I know.

Indolent slumber in a bitter mist with
the crunch of my steps in July,
Snow underfoot, the mind's eye flummoxed
By the absence of ice yet the eyes full of frost

Obscuring my sight, my eyes meet hers,
An endless enigma of green,
Infinite and endless,
The gaze renders time senseless

And then now, a sharp lurch from slumber,
The verglas on my eyelids fades as the dew.
The seat is empty still; the curve withers,
The road goes on.