There is no gastank to look for this time as I pull out of Everett under the curtain of June rains
Pointed backwards toward the long shadow of memories of you as my companion
Running north into water-colored mountains, painted in muted finality across my then and now horizons
Even now as your Sun wakes mines winds down, descending tired toward Twilight and deep night slumbering
Once we journeyed here to renew your entry back into my country
only a mirror and a chance glance reflecting back to me a reality that since has never been refracted
This bus that now goes North
Shadows longing long on time slipping by one white stripe at a time
I flying from this here now to somewhere then unhurriedly
What if for a moment time folded in on itself?
And my now saw us then taking this same road?
I on this bus, we in your car with the latch to the gastank not yet found
What might I say from this now? What do I know that I did not know then?
Nothing.
Nothing has changed, at least nothing that ever really matters.
I knew then what I know now
– believed then what I believe now
– understood then what I understand now
– loved then as I love now
And I smile now as I smiled then
As this bus goes North to find you East
