Sunday 16th August



Following Blacktop snakes heading West towards the boarder.
Reading soporific white line poetry hugging ragged green.
The fences & railings of my youth decay at the edge of fields
grazed by this season’s flock. The hum of single engined planes,
cutting clouds above hop poles ripening festoons before harvest.
I pull over, stop, turn off the engine, wind down the window &
listen, hesitating. Should I abandon the car & walk off?
Disappear drown myself in silence between the fields, never to
be found? I hold my breath & count, listening for a sign.


4 thoughts on “Sunday 16th August

  1. I have a black book with some of the answers.
    The answer to “Should I abandon the car & walk off?” is “Proceed one step further”
    The answer to “Disappear drown myself in silence between the fields, never to be found?” is “Hi ho Hi ho,
    Its home from the mine we go”.
    Hope this is helpful 🙂

  2. Those hypnotic white lines, stop, stretch, refresh and carry on regardless is all one can do. Sometimes getting lost is not the option it seems to be.

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