ever-expanding America, yes,
we'll see the USA in your
Chevrolet, sky blue, reflecting
all our tomorrows, ticked
off on her fingers, halfway
between sleep and wakefulness
as she tries to discern how
many colors your irises are
comprised of, surprising how
they change in the light, with
your temper, too,
mid-afternoon now, she packs
and repacks, discarding this
and that for other, more
practical items, the compass,
the light, the water, the
oil, hoping they will last these
next dark nights
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