"A Cloud Mountain" by William Doreski

A Cloud Mountain

The dusk above Epping bulks
with black cloud on blue-black sky.
The blur of oncoming headlights
ribbons in a tough endless glitter. 

We’re driving west toward Manchester
but appear about to drill a hole
in a nameless, unmapped mountain.
The oncoming cars have escaped 

a crushing and desolate fate
toward which our lane of taillights
rushes without hesitation.
We’re too overwrought to parse 

the illusion of a huge mountain
that dissolves as dark overflows
and swallows the sky’s geometries.
You focus so firmly on driving 

that I must keep us both awake
with unnatural chatter about
the numbing flatness of southeast
New Hampshire, the over-lit 

gas stations and convenience stores
crouched beside every off-ramp.
Driving headlong into the night
we’re so engorged with traffic 

that our bodies tense with the pain
of an accident that won’t occur
but still lurks around every bend
with its blue-and-red lights flashing.

William Doreski

William Doreski lives in Peterborough, New Hampshire. He has taught at several colleges and universities. His most recent book of poetry is Dogs Don’t Care (2022). His essays, poetry, fiction, and reviews have appeared in various journals.

Headshot: Carole Doreski

Photo Credit: Staff