The commute
Part of the commute is
not, as you might expect,
that sense of going forward
to meet the day and work.
Most days I don’t even think of it.
I do think of what’s behind me though.
As the landscape rushes by
there’s the view in the mirror
as driveway and village disappear
the hills change, the sun rises there.
The cats will be sleeping again,
my forgotten lunch waits in the frig,
my work sits on the studio table,
and for now I can only glance back
until the traffic ties me
to the view ahead and
what’s before me.
6 april 2013
