notes on a rainy night.

besides me, not a car on the road.
silence, and the evidence of rain.
drops on my windshield, glittering
in the red glow from the stoplight. 

one touch and the radio springs
to life with the sound of violins.
anything, really, to fill the void
your words left in my head.

i was so used to them,
circling there, like a dog
going comfortably to sleep. 
round and round, their
steady rise and decline
was as soothing as the sound
of wet tires on rain-slick roads.

but they’re gone, and you’re gone,
and it’s late, and i’m awfully tired
of (for) this. the passenger seat is
empty.

you left your keys in my car,
by the way.