Freeway Introspection

I stare fixedly out the window
As night winds whip past,
Clouding my vision.

My hair catches in the breeze.

Steady drum of the engine soothes
My thoughts from present to past.
I see myself in the mirror:

Tiny freckles of dirt,
A dusting of insects,
And my face becomes
Another thing in the glass,

A shadowed image
Reflected in nighttime constellations
Whipping past
Curved highway
Haunted by lonely cries
Of insects from surrounding fields.

Relaxing, I sink back even farther.
Afterimages blur.
The pinpoints of night sky
Connect my thoughts,
And constellations play back

Fading angels
Flashing starry smiles,
Their substance made more real
As I drift into sleep.