The line in winter

It’s faded white, and broken.

The night’s blizzard fills in the cracks, and covers all.

And so, slowing, we search the snow.

The brighter the lights, the less we see.

On the unwelcome curves, just our best guess.

And now, it shows itself with intermittent hints.

We relax, loosen our grip a bit.

Toe the line, straight ahead.

Now, the road ahead shines with mottled ice.

We drift

Adrenalin pumps

Keep control now, no sudden moves.

Compute in instant calculus,

Millimeter motion on the wheel.

The billowed heart slows and shrinks.

We breathe.

Home.

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