And that voice inside
the tunnel releases
an echo: move
on, move on, move on
over to this fresh moment.
And she does. Another one
up ahead—no cell vibrations,
time to break old signals,
ride it out till headlights
slap afternoon awake again.
tunnel
Day 2,703
Some days she’s not willing
to dig deep
below a scratched surface
truth. Some days she just wants
to see her
reflection crack
and walk on. Some
other days that become nights
she would rather go
blind than acknowledge
the visions trapping
her heart inside an under river
tunnel. This could be
one of those.
Night & Day Poems of Amy Nash 