To The Man in the Other Car
By Barbara Sweeney
Beside us the ocean
moves into place
beneath us the road
spins out a glass story.
Storms of light fight
between your lane
and my lane
I turn when
you turn
the sun in all our mirrors
multiplies by fives.
With twin force we
swallow a bump
curve out necks to the left
mouth the same tune.
O to be in perfect time
with a perfect stranger.
It is an unchristened intimacy
(I do not look at your face.)
It is an unbearable coupling broken by
my foot going down hard to the floor.
I move ahead of you and
head on into new air
glinting
as I go.
Appeared in The Washout Review;
Vol. 1/No. 4, Summer, 1976