the a.m. station

I miss the exit
to river road, daydreaming
at five a.m.,
hardly day yet,
still dark with a white
saucer moon
hanging in the indigo sky.
the roads
are already full of mice
smelling
the cheese of a new
day. hustling
to where they need to be.
I have to take the
Georgetown pike
exit and come
back around, get back
on track. I don't mind
the delay, but stick
to the right lane,
and concentrate,
half listening to the static,
the white noise
of an a.m.
station.