Three Months

The car radio is singing to me
And nobody else will hear it
And the road beneath my body is travelling at speed
A speed that never remits
The glass of the window, my view of the world
Parting the waves of the rain
I’m running, I’m coming back to the start
I’m coming home again

The summer, the autumn, the month of September
The night and the afternoon
I will sleep and I eat and I know them once more
The people I cast at the dunes
My skin is turning white again
The air is growing pure
And I will return to the forest of buildings
These woods, again, shall be yours

I am turning, I’m crying and thinking of good things
Thinking of sitting alone
I shall never fully grow apart from this place
I shall miss so many crisp morning’s snow
The leaves are now falling and blowing down roads
Roads I am moving again
I push the lines around with my eyes
My resistance has grown so thin.