⠀⠀⠀Nearly home, close enough to see ahead where
⠀⠀⠀our driveway led away from the country road
⠀⠀⠀into the steep trees up where our dream home
⠀⠀⠀hid from view, a huge white truck came head-on
⠀⠀⠀full speed in our lane, too late for us to veer off.
⠀⠀⠀We stopped with the huge hood of the monster
⠀⠀⠀nearly on us looming like the Titanic’s iceberg,
⠀⠀⠀immediately shifting in reverse, all so smoothly
⠀⠀⠀that we escaped a single scratch even though
⠀⠀⠀our white whale never hit his brakes but only
⠀⠀⠀accelerated all the faster until we turned aside
⠀⠀⠀to wait for traffic behind the truck to proceed.
⠀⠀⠀Up where our dream home hides in steep trees,
⠀⠀⠀I’m supposed to be the one who’ll be sacrificed
⠀⠀⠀since I’ll return to say what it will be like for us.
⠀⠀⠀All their performers from before my own time
⠀⠀⠀have signed on to play the event for donations
⠀⠀⠀—Mick and Bob and Carlos and Paul with Art.
⠀⠀⠀We suspect I’m being followed. I’m taken on up
⠀⠀⠀where the rest of the team’s already in full gear
⠀⠀⠀waiting for me to make the first move back out.