Villanelle

I’m in poetry writing this semester.  So–a villanelle.

Carwreck

I assured them: "the future is dark."
The woods watched me flee the wreck
Because its lights have blinded us.

I kissed her beneath an overpass
A week before her funeral: a eulogy:
I assured them: "the future is dark."

I kissed her mother on the cheek.
"I’m leaving town," I said.  "I must
Because its lights have blinded us."

I wandered the vernal woods and
Replied to songbirds’ remarks.
I assured them: "the future is dark."

I returned a week older and armed
With stones, all thrown at a streetlamp
Because its lights had blinded us.

Streetlamps into showers of sparks,
The motes a summer dress to dust.
I assured them: the future is dark
Because its lights have blinded us.