"As I sit in my driveway in my old plum-crazy purple '70 Hemi Cuda, its engine running roughly, struggling, gasping for oxygen, at idle in the icy air. Its 426 dual four barrel carbs, thirsty sucking fuel. I think about her, sleeping there in the house, I think about me.

I hate this moment thinking for all my hopes of love and warmth there will be isolation, that I will be alone. She whom I fell in love with for all the right reasons, will also be alone.

She there, quietly sleeping, is alone, as only a woman can be alone in her bed, lying on her side, knees pulled up.

Alone like the rest of mankind always in some need of healing. Man is a little world adrift on the infinite."