Porchlight Maps

Two AM on the county line

Asking a stranger for the interstate sign

We hold a glossy picture framed in the porchlight glow

Pretending it's a candid shot from an hour ago

Two lanes of blacktop

fade into the dark

While a rain-warped flyer

peels off from the park

Still visible under the yellow porch bulb

Two ghosts trying to find our way back to love

Where do we go

when the map runs out?

How do we speak past the rising doubt?

We're just tourists searching for a home we used to know

Underneath the porchlight, watching two lanes go

And the rain begins to fall on the hood of the car

We look at the map,

but we don't know

where we are (where we are...)

Just a tourist at two AM...