The Transient

Further down the long white road
merging with the flanking fields,
a darker illusion stands waiting,
a stranger I once knew.
The approach reveals the illusion
to simply be an exposed part
of the dirt beneath the snow,
elongated to suggest height
from a distance I once knew.
Numb, yet aching fingers
flick ashes out the cracked window,
as the relentless tires rush over
the illusion I once knew.
Exhaust disappears quickly
in the frozen morning air,
and smoke rolls over chapped lips
leaving behind a fix, reminiscent
of the dreams I once knew.