so says the straw hat

My memory is a piano string suspended pulled rigid tight in silent anticipation for any key. The road simply ended. The lake ahead of us wearing silence thick as a winter shawl though it was not snowing. The whole planet fit in my car. The whole planet was so still I could not even tell if she was breathing and night time and the moon were busy being bright not caring to check the planets pulse only half glancing for the murmurs of creek stones over water. The telephone pole had cracked in half hanging limp arms--black asp on the asphalt. We kissed in the car a while left the engine running where the road ended forgetting to survey the damage the wind had done. The moon shining on the lake looked like a cowboy riding silent-film reels on repeat.