The Night Is a Triptych

You sit invisible 
in the green chair 
of the diner 
not enough light
to cast a shadow

the dinner is tasteless
you think you have Covid 

on the way back 
to the car 
your footsteps 
sink into  the  blacktop
getting lost 
in the yellow overheads
the strippings below

You trip, stumble
find the car
struggle with the keys
the opening 
the closing 
all the visions outside 

you find the wipers
wash away the yellow haze
adjust the rear view 
notice  your smear 
decide to leave it alone

A scraggly young thing
in a black jean’s jacket
and a white ankle long skirt
exits the diner 
walks quickly towards
the highway

you think you should stop her 
you hold your voice 
choke the ennui down

you watch her shadow 
pull away from the diner wall
leaving particles of black dread
trailing her

you hear the noise 
of horns honking 
see her shadow 
breaking into crosses 
in the oncoming 
white lights

the diner neon blurs to red
until the blood  bursts
all around you

the windshield 
is now
a triptych 

you have lost her
you have lost yourself
you have lost everything