Winter Driving By Scott Eck North wind Whips the guardrails, Whistling against the dawn, Clutching to drag the strug'ling sun Back down. My heart's Heavy with salt, Wanting a warm embrace. I envy the guardrails. They are Cold steel. Darkness: It's so, when I Depart to the highway. It's sucking down the sun, when I Come home. My mouth's Puckered by cold: Not wind, but empty road. 'Til you write, I'm steel. 'Til then, I'm Whistling. © 2002, Scott Eck