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I drive when I can’t sleep. I didn’t do that

before. If I could I’d cry

out with the coyotes that camp

the hills behind my parent’s house.

Wind caresses my neck

when the windows are down. Fog sits

in the canyon like a garden and

I’m buried in it and it’s beautiful.

Always 4am.

Sometimes I sit alone in the dark,

dreaming of our flowers

that didn’t bloom. There’s always

something to be weary of these days:

the fog, the coyotes,

my stupid red heart.

Sometimes all we want to be is aimless.

Sometimes all we want to be is wanted.

Sometimes all we want is both.



About this poem

As the poem suggests, I take a lot of late-night drives. And during those drives, I often listen to a playlist that I made called 4am. It’s filled to the brim with super sad, super feel-y songs that put me in a very melancholic mood. I’ve found that my mind so easily slips into an introspective, reflective place while listening. Past experiences, past relationships. It’s almost like a mental reset for me. There’s a canyon that’s pitch-black and backlit by light pollution that I sometimes drive through, and it’s that place and this feeling that inspired me to write this.

3 comentarios

21 mar 2023

Sorry to jump on again. My4am came in 1956-57. On rainy days. I cut my high school classes and I would cruise in my '53 Ford Sunliner Convertable through the back roads of Upstate New York from my North New Jersey home. The pitter patter of the rain on the car roof and the sound of the cool rock 'n' roll music on the AM radio. Life could get no better. Yet, it did. Now fifty plus years later . . . life is still good. Rain drops keep falling on my head,

they keep falling

but there's one thing I know

the blues they send me

won't defeat me, it won't be long

Til happiness steps up to greet…

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17 mar 2023

In this time that I have 'known' you, I treated you as improv partner talking mostly nonsense. We were good at it. Now I discover you are a poet. A real poet. Not just "a poet and I did not know it." see what I did there? I messaged you a little piece that features a poet from my time. You made me think of him. Jack Kerouac. I hope you appreciate the comparison.

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17 mar 2023
Contestando a

Of course you would be the one to send me one of my favorite writers back to me. Thank you so much for the comparison. His book On the Road shaped a lot of my writing growing up, and I love that you're re-introducing him to me now. Thank you, as always. for your thoughtful and touching words. And yeah, I did see what you did there. Thanks again for writing.

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