Seger’s “Night Moves”
wove its spell in a room
stripped bare of furniture
as couples upstairs
chased away their blues
while the unlucky drank beer
and pretended not to hear
their song pouring down
like scalding rain
on an August afternoon.
Well past my third
I shuffled to the kitchen
for another,
and returning to a spot
with my back to the wall
spied an unfamiliar girl
in the shadows
hugging her knees, sober
almond eyes
drinking it all in.
I can’t recall
who made the first move,
but soon we fled
from that purgatory
of teen loneliness
strolling side by side
out the back door
and down a long driveway
filled with cars
while classic rock tunes
slowly receded with each step
into the unknown,
cool evening air
washing over us before
autumn closed in.
