Shouldn't…but Do

Burning fire over a coal-black river.  Pressing onward, licking past, seen but unseen.  Highway to Hades, always there, even in the best  moments.

Summer-paved asphalt road, heavy snow-melt under noon-day sun.  Connective tissue joining one house to another, one disparate story to the next, sighted and sightless.  So close.  So far.