Night’s Stretch

The wet road splits the dark,

a ribbon slick with rain,

lights flicker, fractured, in the black.

Headlights spill over the slick asphalt—

sudden white streaks cutting cold silence,

and the hum of tires,

a steady pulse through the long hours.

The world shrinks to this narrow ribbon,

two lanes disappearing into nowhere,

a steady slide beneath an empty sky.

Time folds in the rearview,

a slow, endless unwind—

a stretch with no edges,

only the wet road, the night,

and the faint beat of a tired heart.