December 12, 2007

  • Sound of Thunder

    Six hours, non-stop office to D.C., gloaming turning swiftly
    black in these longest nights of the year, fog on the heights where the
    menacing semis loom and fade; inclines indicated by the rental’s groan into
    high gear. 

    Lonely, tired, missing the kids.  Too much caffeine, too much empty time in a
    lifestyle otherwise bereft of a free moment. 
    Peopling the passenger seat with an array of fantasy figures, real or
    imagined: what conversations could occur in this LED intimacy surrounded by blackness
    and fog; what unspoken connections, what lasting bonds?  Sans such companionship, the mind creates its
    own: spins stories out of dreams and ghosts and bits and pieces of reality.

    The reception, nearing a city, suddenly clear and evocative: 

    Workin’ on our night
    moves……
    And oh the wonder
    We felt the lightning
    And we waited on the
    thunder
     

    ’76, Seger sweeping to fame on Night Moves, crossed the teen trajectory of me and how many others
    on the road tonight: drivers grainy-eyed, line-faced, middle-aged behind a
    wheel:  in trucking and sales and
    management and the corner office.  How
    many tuned in to the fog, the dark, the memory?

    We were just young and
    restless and bored
    Livin’ by the sword
    Tryin’ to lose the awkward
    teenage blues
    Workin’ on our night
    moves
    And it was summertime
     

    Soul’s summertime: back seats, bra
    straps, fog on the windows: groping, seeking, panting energy, endless passion
    for this and all else.

    I used her, she used
    me
    But neither one cared
     

    Echoes of sixteen, when hear the song touched our
    inexperience.  At 46, instead nostalgia flowers: 

    I woke last night to
    the sound of thunder
    How far off I sat and
    wondered
    Started hummin’ a song
    from 1962
    Ain’t it funny how the
    night moves
    When you just don’t
    seem to have as much to lose

    The speed and the obscurity and the tune: 

    Strange how the night
    moves
    With autumn closing in

Comments (5)

  • Beautifully evocative. Blessings abound

  • I know quite a few people who really don’t care for long drives.  I don’t mind so much, as it allows me to spend some time in my head.  I’d do it at other times of the day, but since I don’t bring it to work, opportunities are limited.  Throw in the aural time-travel capabilities of music, and your car can become another plane.  (har har, I know…)

  • music to my virtual ears, my dear.

    someday, indeed.

  • Traveling alone, at night; the inanimate headlights animated by the imagination’s ghost drivers; the world collapsed to the fringes of your on headlights; and the lonely company of the radio…”workin on the night moves”. A good time for nostalgia and reflection, bra straps and all.

  • Yeah…

    Road trips always wax me into nostalgia as well.

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