Green Hills Literary Lantern





Driving through the desert late one night,

I remember moonless sky and how we dared

to roll our windows down and cut our lights,


drive blind on winding roads. We held on tight

and laughed that summer, we lived without a fear,

drove often through that desert late at night.


I look out now into Sonoran sky,

and think perhaps that I can meet you here.

If I roll my window down, cut my lights,


close my eyes and imagine you by my side

still in youth, maybe you will appear.

Driving through this desert late tonight,


a voice confirms my intuition right

the wind rolls in and whispers in my ear.

I roll my window down and cut my lights,


punch the gas and feel my stomach tight.

I seize my chance to finally join you here.

Driving through the desert late at night,

I roll my window down and cut my lights.



Daryl Farmer’s recent work has appeared in The Potomac Review, Paddlefish, Fourth River and Quarter After Eight. His first book Bicycling beyond the Divide received a Barnes and Noble Discover Award. He teaches creative writing at the University of Alaska-Fairbanks.