Ring Lost on Road
I look out
and see it’s not dark yet;
the patched roads
shimmer
in falling drizzle afternoon.
A single piece
of silver falls from my hand
in slow-motion, repeating
in mind’s eye—a ring
I’ve had.
I was born
on that road
and I’ll die there,
too. As the memories
flood my mind,
I can’t even remember
why I came here
in the first place
All I heard
was the rolling
of the waves onto
the cold, white
beach
and a single car horn
whose sound blew
through the alleys.
