𝙾 𝙲 𝙲 𝚄 𝙻 𝚄 𝙼

by Bethany Cutkomp

Our headlights carved comet streaks
into cosmic gravel dust spun up by
prior tires. Only one vehicle ahead
shared rural Missouri roads weaving
through the woods, its pair of eyes
glowing scarlet in the dark. Had we
been less enamored by firefly glitter
sparkling among the trees, perhaps
we would have caught the moment
when that vehicle hugged a corner
and vanished straight into smoke.

A hush swept across the dashboard,
settling along the space between us.
Was that real? you asked me at last.
Cranking the radio volume to mute,
I said that we might have seen a ghost.

---

Bethany Cutkomp is a writer from St. Louis, Missouri. She enjoys catching chaotic vibes and bees with her bare hands. Her work appears in Full Mood Magazine, underscore_magazine, Libre, Epistemic Literary, Poetry As Promised, and more. Find her on social media at @bdcutkomp or on her website at https://bdcutkomp.wixsite.com/portfolio