Un-known

When I look at the nightstreets,
I see the blood vessels
pumping red brakelights.
We move and swirl through
arteries clogged with soda cans –
and the most intense fog descends.

On our way out of town,
we were pulled into this divebar
lurking beside the highway.
Cloaked in crepuscular dim,
everything lit aglow by shadows
I felt the woods teeming with ghosts.

There is a certain ‘streetlamp ambience’
and there’s nothing else like it –
but it just was here, inside the bar.
I thought I saw someone,
an old acquaintance of mine –
shadows flickered on his wrinkles.

Actually, I don’t remember how I got here.
Behind the building, the gravel and dirt
crunching as I wander to the car,
I notice something, an old house
and the urge to peer inside,
my stride as a cautious feline.

I don’t know what I expected –
a middle-aged house, folksy,
it reminded me of my parents’.
This place seems close to home,
but my memory has fluttered off.
What was I doing? I don’t
remember where I am

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