Roads in the Mountains

I am resting in a hotel in Vermont, and now

Drunks are entering their cars outside

And slipping into the late evening

To test the winding roads in the mountains.

I hear them shout and slam their doors,

Hear them start their engines, and then,

After they are gone, I hear footsteps

Sounding like a heartbeat, a woman’s

Moving briskly under the lamplight.