The Freeway Beliefs.

On that dawn freeway
we're half to the sea,
all glass and breathless,
a raging girth of getting places
in so many one directions,
you took my intentions for your own
flimsy as their reality. 

At this distance
we've all had the compress
and we've all had the transport
Into shapes and understandings
that look right for the journey.
But our elastic beliefs
they do love to unravel
they do love the reform
from the sharp pragmatics
to a diaphanous
of beautiful uncertainties.

No longer a leash
For the dog in us,
the moon excuses
the midlife boors,
this certainty flows
as a river undamned
half to the sea,
but half to the horizon.