Saturday, July 31, 2010


I'm driving through a landscape cut from pages of a magazine
The journey is long and I have not brought with me enough to think about
So thoughts, unbound, come to me
I think of something else
Of when I was a child and my mother told me to think of something else
Above me a hint of blue sky, promising a hope for a wish for a time that will come, a brightened day
But I have been driving a long time and the landscape, cut from a magazine, changes so slowly
I sit up to try to see the road ahead, unrolling under me, the scattered asphalt skittering away from the tires, humming, sound mixing with the radio playing music, drifting
No wind stirs the trees; the leaves, scattered on the ground, are still, and I cut through without disturbing them, only a shade passing, cut from the same

1 comment:

  1. beautiful! you breathe life into my quiet images.