baggage

so we're driving through nebraska
silver trees and fields of corn
flashing past like someone's
memory of how it used to be.
and it's raining like confetti
when someone's born or marilyn
monroe comes to town. and
we're arguing again.
i can't remember what
it's all about anymore.

and i remember when we
couldn't hold each other
long enough. when the world
was the sky and you loved me.
there's a lake to the right of us,
it's surface pocked by rain.
did you notice it? how long
has it been since you've noticed
me? the sun is setting in front of us.
brilliant orange and red. behind
us the sky is violet. you don't
ask why i'm looking back.