Dispositive

The glass cracks, the rear wheels
Fishtail, the day comes down as gauze,
Arrives as ice and grinds to slush
Heavy as buckets of mud, slippery

As duck shit on ice. Hallelujah,
It's a long way home, and who knows
What home will be like once we get there?
To the extent that I can still move,

While I can still move, while the wheels
Still have a little traction and before
My vision gets too dim to see the road
Lines between the soulless beauty

Of the weather's vengeance on us
And the heavy hanging dangers
Of the rockfalls and deep woods,
It's time, there's still time, time to go.