Headlight Sweep

The road bent hard.

My high beams cut the dark,

sweeping wide.

For a moment, all the stones,

tall and squat, angled and straight,

leapt from the black field.

White faces, gray shoulders,

a sudden army, still and cold.

Then the light moved on.

They were gone.

Just the black again,

deeper, heavier, where they stood.

My breath hitched in the sudden return

of nothing.