Traveling to Cape May
I sing at the sight
of the lollypop lights on the butts
of cars on the parkway at night.
The lights in my love
Speak of my joy and
speak of my pain – each is part of the other.
I say it is good old Friday at last
I say
“My brother, where are you going?
And are you glad?”
Traveling on
Brother, I have no news for you today
except that the sun grows old –
that we have traveled far
And that I search for you along the way.
The night is near and the wind grows cold;
there are no leads to tell me where you are.
It is good that each is part of the other.
By the time we reach Cape May it’ll be snowing.