The Atlas of Regret
By Bill Gillard

In the atlas of regret,
...........you are my only country.
...........In the atlas of regret,
...........we ride side by side
...........across that vast western desert
...........night after night until the ice
...........on the road in the mountain pass—
In the atlas of regret,
...........I press my palms against the glove box
...........and say, you see the curve coming, don't you?
...........It's right here on this map, my
...........unwanted advice, and then the ice—
In the atlas of regret,
...........I'm there with you to feel before knowing
...........the gentle release of the tires from the road
...........like slipping inside someplace warm and wet
...........and the fire when your car and the ice met
In the atlas of regret,
...........I press my palms against the glove box
...........and say, we've been here before
...........we've rehearsed this,
...........filled the pages of
The atlas of regret,
...........where you are my only country,
...........the iron frame that remains, the
...........rounded, smooth mistake
...........from which everything superfluous
...........has been burned away.

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