Milepost

Here's a poem for today, that I found while looking for something else:
She half smiled.
Leaning across the counter, she said,
"What, are you some kinda goddamned poet?"
And it meant, "move it, Jack"
as well as, "I wish I could move it, too."
And I moved ...
leaving her life behind
not moved, not touched
in the cold Nevada night.
I moved; she remained.
And we both dreamed.
And in our dreams we went our separate ways.