I travel the desolate highways

that run through the smallest towns

to transform for a minute into Main Street

then fade back into their nondescript route

the uncertain focus of dirty headlights

are the only shine in the night

the moon and the stars absenting themselves

from the unrelenting dreariness

lest they too turn drab with grime

or get tangled in the rusted barbed wire

hanging from an abandoned fence

the smoke from a cigarette drifts from the car window

and an convenience store coffee cup spills dregs

onto the vinyl seat as I drive