Center Line

Road to Yosemite 

At dusk on a two-lane road 

that curves like a Z, the

strip of paint that marks

a border between life and death

suddenly seems to glow
for me. 

How easily one can veer, 
I think. Take care.

A trespass by a hair

can spell the end 
of the road,

so to speak. 

Today's paper 
tells of a head-on 

in Wyoming
that killed three Boy Scouts, 

a toddler,  and a man 
whose car crossed 

the center line 
last night.

It’s only chance 
they strayed across 
the line just as I 
was measuring
its power
with a new
and urgent need
to keep my eyes
on it.