Justine and Margie had decided to take the lead in the revolt. They were discussing in muttered tones in their little brother Charlie's room. As he was only two years old, he would not be capable of ... [+]
In the morning night
When streetlight shadows
Scramble rat-ways
Under parked cars
And rain, down pipes,
Taps the pavement
Like an impatient date,
Then radio music,
Drifting memory-thin
Over rural roads,
Sputters at its edges
And freight trucks
Swish the overpass,
Their beams streaking
Above my windshield:
A caravan of comets.