By Mason Riggs

I catch myself driving aimlessly.

Down dimly lit roads as nightfall

takes ownership of the sky.


My left hand reaches out to grab the sky, nothing,

But it felt nice trying. The breeze whips my hair,

reminding me it’s too long.


The sounds of a mellow guitar and a soft voice

flood my system. I sing along,

loud enough for the world to hear.


Yellow eyes shimmer in a forest eerie and calm.

I slow my speed to halt and lock eyes with the beast.

The animal stares at me with contempt.


The lonely country backroads of Virginia begin to speak.

I turn my car off and absorb its sound:

No one is around, but it is loud.

The silence fills ears until I have had enough. I keep driving.