The Nowhere Map

Sometimes the heart drives without glasses,

squints into the sun,

sings off key,

songs about love and regret.

Pinning hope to the dashboard its destination slips from view,

the nowhere map a thousand miles away.

The soul asleep sees nothing,

and knows everything before waking to sulk in the passenger seat.

It drew the map lost by the heart.

Holds the coordinates,

knows the route

there, just up the hill

beyond the mountains

and sky.