We thought we were dharma bums
back then, remember?
You had just quit your job in sales
and I was bound for the West Coast,
to write heroic sonnets
and get laid.
Do you remember that precise moment
when the earth seemed reborn
and all the planet benign
and supple and awake?
We had just driven across the desert
and up ahead,
the High Sierras loomed.
A quick September spritz came up
and the highway became a mirror
for a moment.
I remember you said:
“Holy shit! ”
and I said:
“I love you.”
The highway, an endless looking glass,
reflected all the firmament and its clouds.
That day we were
riding on the sky.
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