the car won't start

it's early morning.

i look out the window

as i get dressed

and see

the sun, a  hard yellow

cough drop in the sky

just barely over 

the exxon station down 

the street from her apartment.

she's still sleeping.

i find my keys and phone

and tip toe out the door.

i find a stick on the ground

to scrape ice

off the windows of my car,

then get in, rubbing my gloveless

hands together.

it won't start.

i pump the gas,

turn the key, the clicking

noise is sad. 

a chirping sound.

no growl from the engine.

i can't see out the windows

because of the frost.

i wait.

i try again.

nothing.

she's probably looking

out the window

wondering why

i don't leave.

maybe she's thinking that

i love her.

that i can't bare to 

drive away without coming

in one more time

to kiss her. to tell her that

i want to spend

the rest of my life with her,

and then there's a knock

on the window.

it's her

with jumper cables.