Catherine McLain
Highway at Midnight
What I could do now is drive—
cut through the night sharp and clean
as a guitar scream,
electric as a kestrel
intent on prey,
failure impossible.
What I cannot do is forget,
fold over and hide the thought
of your face, cold and clear
as the moon above the city,
as an owl's eye—
keen and hard as tin.
Bio
I am an aging English Major (Millsaps College, 1973) Many years ago I wrote a few poems. A few of those few were included in small publications. Now, in late life, poetry is calling again.