SLIPPING AGAINST TREES

My feet were black from walking barefoot on the road. Trying to get some fresh air before we started. You yelled at me to get back when you saw headlights. We watched helicopters above us looking for someone, and kids playing ball in the night with the boundaries of limited light.
"I'm taking off my pants" I finally said.

On the way home we listened to a burnt CD labeled "drive". I propped my head against my arms and leaned on the truck door and imagined white dogs, indian guides, and catching fireflies like they did in that car commercial 'cos Nick Drake sang to us about a Pink Moon.
We turned down that road, and I didn't look for his black truck.

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