a last pocket of survivors
in a quiet world
we lift our glasses,
toast the happy couple
3 a.m. on empty roads
that glisten and smell like spring
traffic lights click away
and do their color dance
for random strangers
we stagger and sway
chatter for the newlyweds
having their wedding night
a friend throws money
into our new used truck
to bring us children
and a bit of luck
we climb in
and drive
to the next adventure
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