YOU’RE A HOLIDAY:
Tyre tracks disappeared off the road last night like
parallel shadows, The Glenn Miller band struct up in confident
stride. The radio crackled as we slid the corner, following black top,
chasing lights. We came from bright rooms filled with laughter,
grateful none of our stories are hers. The girl in pain with frightened
expression, we’d travelled this road together for years. Last night she
looked different, though her eyes still burned & the words tumbled out
like clearing a bedsit & our stories were the same until we reached
that bend, remember how we used to laugh, we were just the same?
Last night I heard Glenn Miller when she heard nothing, couldn’t
drive any more, couldn’t take the load. As the sound of laughter dies
in the distance the black top snakes towards the lights of town.
The trees stand tall, beside the road, the ditch hides the debris
& the black top keeps going.
CDJ plays a song that got deep into the bone when I was a kid
& still resonates, singing in morning showers – thanks Robin.