Wild Horses

Haunting, hollow voices
echo "Wild Horses"
as I sit
in my darkened car imagining
the results of leaving
the engine on
parked in our garage.

I wanted to be young,
romantic, and reckless.
Driving nowhere holding
hands and looking at the stars
through the roof
of the car we thought could take
us anywhere our love led us.

Instead we sit watching
as the stars rain
from the sky around
us. They are beautiful
as they fall
but will never illuminate
our sky again.

Somehow we're here
strangers in the same
house. Old and haggard in our prime.
Young, romantic, and reckless seem
to have passed us by like wild mustangs.
Can we run fast
enough to catch up?