Jess Burnquist

Commute with Clouds, Acknowledgement

This happens. And it is usually

Before any of you are awake.

I am on the freeway, ignoring the news

Plugged in completely to road and sky.

The mountains sit still, allowing

Light its daily performance. I seek

Out the faces of nearby drivers

Hoping for eye contact, even

A nod of, Yes! I too felt that sunrise

knock our hearts out of the game!

Because such recognition might make

It more permanent. And you might feel

For a moment—closer. I shouldn’t pretend

That I mind, though—the metaphors

In skies that most people miss.

This morning, a wistful cloud

Settled between the onramp and desert

Vista. It followed me like it was the moon.

Not quite a paisley, a near spiral

I took it to mean something about

Death. It’s just that I am so busy

Watching day’s beauty break

Faster than this speed

Limit.