1)   Overpass  (rearview mirror)

     You will never meet
     her or you will not meet again.
     You’ll see yourself
     as if you will
     imagining so clear as if it must
     but it will not.

     There always will
     be something else or
     something in between.

     (The sky above was blue with scattered clouds.  The blue was deep then soft then bright as light.  So pretty!  Just like paradise.  There was even a sort of palm tree as in the warmer climes, where paradise is or was, also some variety of desert seeming brush though tamed of course by and for civilization, just   this side of paved. 

     Though you were under a shadow.  There was something huge and gray above you that if it broke or fell on one could crush you to death (hunks of concrete, hunks, mangled steel, cables, death, etc. as we have all seen on the news like in the San Francisco earthquake of - when was that - l989.  Was there another one? I thought we were the first.  I thought that no one else had ever gone through what we felt and faced the things we must or ever felt as much and deep as I.  The huge great freeways crashing down like the ancient walls of Jericho, Goliath or the Atlas of Rhodes - wasn’t he the guy who held up the world?  I think there was an Indian as well - throwing out everything and smashing, crushing to death (both instantly and slow and gruesomely) everyone riding on top of them and everyone driving beneath them.   That was the shadow you were underneath.)

     You will forever see
     whether it’s there or not
     a face behind the glass

     or someone looking back
     or out or to you
     or trying to tell or ask
     you yes or something.

     You’re looking back, inventing it.
     You always will imagine you
     will meet again or once
     and will return to somewhere
     that is not
     where something went instead of you.

     Did you imagine in the mirror something past
     or something else that never was?

     Did someone raise a hand goodbye?
     Or was she only brushing back her hair?

     For ever you are looking back
     for something no one else can see
     receding in the glass.