Analysis of Dawn Racer

Rain pools on the pavement- portals
to a different world. The median
shifts, replaced by a smeared echo
of the traffic lights. Blurred images
blinking red and orange, distorted,
shrinking under the high beam’s scrutiny.     

Each whisper secrets, eking out
pleas for attention. Promising
possibilities of a world where I’m driving
towards the other way, before
being trampled; scattered fragments
under jaded tires.   

A cerulean sky reflects my mood,
cringing stars avert my gaze
behind darkened veils. Doubt stains
my windshield; the car hisses, its
empty ducts refusing to
shed cleansing tears for troubles heard
too many times now. Instead, simply
wagging its disapproving digits in my face.  

Gears shift, frustrations rise,
scenery twists. Colors of the evening
blend and an ugly collage emerges,
streaking by as if embarrassed at
the chance meeting.

Like a child’s canvas when they
greedily use all the crayons at once,
excitedly mixing layers upon layers.
But it’s in separation
that makes a rainbow beautiful.

Tonight, I race against sleep. For
no dreams await me in bed.
Tonight, I race against the Dawn,
in a contest of ego to see who makes
the Moon fall for them first.
Tonight, I feed my jealousy with speed.