MAPPING BACKROADS:
Chasing cut throughs, slipping through gaps between hedges,
leaving the beaten tracks through bowers, hawthorn tunnels,
grasses tall as shoulders, seeds caught on the wind blown in
our faces, laughing, spotlit by the sun. Tire tracks across
moist earth dug over by horse hoof, sheltered in shadow, the
rich smells of brown & green. Buttercup, dog rose, cascades
of brier barbs, the sweet perfume of elder flower & the bite
of hogweed bloom.Everything green gone mad over night, blacktop
turned grey & cracked for weeds to reach up to the light in
Mohican ridges down the centre line, gravel traps swept to
gutter lines by winter rain. The ‘tic-tic-tic’ of the chain
as we freewheel again.
(K)
Karl Hyde 
In case of emergency, or if you need to keep track of the difference.
🙂
By the way, I saved the buttercup in my garden yesterday. I love its shiny luminous petals, while my mother thinks it´s only worthless weeds.
Hey Karl,
Does anyone ever sing for you? … I want to sing to you for a change. I’m in my bedroom right now singing this song to your picture. Love, Cari
…and I’m singing you this too.
PS-Notice how the audience is totally still, with no one jumping around dancing or even hardly bobbing their heads. Would you feel weird in front of an audience that was totally still like this?