Each of Us
Lying beside you in darkness, I hear,
through the door we left cracked to invite in
autumn’s dryer, cooler, miraculous air,
the sound of trucks on the Interstate
over the distant, treeless plains.
I can visualize each one muscling
its way in the vast night, headlamps
shining bravely, each driver focusing
on the imminent, attending to
the balance between acceleration,
deceleration, shifting gears, peering
into what the night allows.
I can see change and interchange. I hear tires
heavy as longing on pavement, rotating,
gaining traction, propelling each truck,
an always-moving-forward in the expanse,
mimicking the sound of a river,
a migration from one reality to the next,
each truck making its way, as best it can, each
truck passing, being passed, in unending-hunger
of joining, interweaving, moving
their individual bodies up the dark road—
home to lonely narratives. The Interstate’s
dark gravity draws each toward one more
unseen conclusion, the sound
of their passing soughing in the cracked door,
where I glean only a fleeting meaning,
each individual a shadow ghosting the road,
each hurling to the extent of its force,
whining, grinding—while I give a low sigh
and check the clock, longing for sleep,
listening to crickets singing from grassy lairs,
hearing with my whole body throbbing
and humming in the darkness,
hearing everything singing, full and hungry
at once. Isn’t this the essence of my sensing,
little valences and hints, blinking, sighing,
reaching my hand from the bed,
the meanwhiles expanding in crisp autumn air,
while I breathe this moment of clarity,
as I feel you next to me, turning on your side,
shoulder exposed from the covers, perhaps
because you want to feel the air too,
your shoulder bare,
topless, because you know I like that, and
because you like it too, touching my skin
with your foot even while you sleep,
expressing a tactile faith in love,
to be felt, to be knelt in,
even as you lie next to me, each of us
bathing in nearness, touching each other,
a miracle in this vastness,
the feeling of not feeling alone, even
while each of us are in our bodies alone.
D. Cottingham
Bindweed Magazine 