The Road Unspools

Under the dim orange glow

of tired street lamps,

the highway unwinds like a thread

pulled loose from some forgotten cloth.

Tires hum against cold asphalt,

a steady rhythm in the night,

cold air slipping in through cracked windows,

a quiet cold pressed to the skin.

The dark stretches endless ahead,

a ribbon cut through the black,

something empty but full

of somewhere that waits just past the bend.