thinking about how long it may take
for the trees around me to go
from their spiny empty look to
a beautiful tangled-up
green and my words are sticking
in my throat because I’m not
quite understanding how talking
about the kinds of cars we liked got us
to this taciturn moment and something
about the way his hands are so far
from mine makes me fidget
with the buttons on the passenger car
door but then I remember that just three
months ago this road was lined with
full trees until the harsh air of
the season crawled deep into
its limbs straight to its core so
instead of trying to find any
words I’m staring at the dashed
lines in the road combine and stay
together and imagining the future
trees flying by again in shades
of dark green and olive green
and maybe even a little yellow.