moonlight drive
driving in a small blue car, in the backseat,
leaning against the cool glass of the passenger side window,
watching the shadow-etched silhouettes of pine illuminated by the moon
racing black clouds whipped across her bright round face
she spoke to me, in words I could neither hear nor understand
but I knew she had spoken to me
on the highway between Vanderhoof and Burns Lake
end of August, driving back from grandma's farm