Then, one by one, they began to disappear
from among the cars of the living.

———

When we went to retrieve his,
you drove the rows of the lot
while I pushed the panic button on the fob.

———

Inside, a takeout coffee cup
sat in its cradle,

a skim of decay
floating beneath the lid.

I’d ridden in that car
many times, but never driven it.

———

When I turned the key,
the radio
opened unexpectedly,
like an eye.

———

I was conscious of the ground
passing just beneath the floor –

and the trapped air in the tires
lifting my weight. I realized

I was steering homeward
the down payment

of some house we might live in
for the rest of our lives.

Photograph by Shutterstock