The WreckThe night Raleigh doubled down, the sun fell, the snow rose in slow circles, halos, crows diving over.
Sundown, edge of town. Lights on the overpass blink. She hurries past, wind growing colder. There she was,
woodsmoke and evergreen. There she was, in the car with me. Slow up the switchback. Smokes and a sixpack.
Over the pass at last. Sky on fire. I bank the turn a little late, try my best to compensate. The Ford is a raft, the
winding road is a river. There she was, woodsmoke and evergreen. There she was, in the car with me.