Closed Doors 

Morrison droned Riders on the Storm

from the cabinet stereo.

She was closer than dark on Saturday night.

I could not tell you who was president

the size of the engine in my Detroit muscle

or to what college I had applied.

She was up my sinuses and below my buckle.

Never had a girl suggested the things she promised.

I was a boy with his head in the noose

and his feet dancing in midnight air.

Riders on the Storm. 

Into this house we're born. 

Into this world we're thrown.

Despite my teenage bravado 

and my dad's English Leather

I was clueless how to proceed.

No matter.

She knew precisely.

Like a dog without a bone

or actor out on loan...

She did not need to reach for me.

There was no space between us.

Her stereo had a little green light

and that emerald glow was all

the go signal I required.

Riders on the storm.

Driving home that night

I kept the radio off

and all my windows down

hoping the September wind

would cleanse my soul

and calm my pulse.

It did not.

Girl...take him by the hand

make him understand

the world on you depends.

Our life will never end. 

Gotta love your man.

Ninety minutes in that little green orb

taught me to obey red lights

for the rest of my life.

Riders on the storm.