fog lights

each time

the road is born anew

last month it seemd

the fluttering falling

leaves of autumn

were fractal frames

of auburn eyes of lost lovers

who were carried from the past

into Now

by windblasts

this month

in the undersea haze of thick fog

and endless rain

SUVs from connecticutt

on their way to skiing

are measured in red shift frequencies

passing the locals

and like dreams of

when i was a child

with my parents driving
from the city

to ski

now, in the fog

all the drivers are going north

to where it is cold

and the white blinding peaks

carry their eyes back

to childhood