Set out today
To look for a line;
A thought, a word
Picked up on the road
And carried home
To keep a pledge
Made to an empty page.
Only to find
My mind consumed
By the unconscious calculus
Of carving through an off-camber curve;
Weaving down a pot-holed hill
Like a raindrop on a window-pane;
Ticking off long, level miles
With well-drilled diesel diligence;
Hustling over heart-freeze crossroads
Like a prisoner dodging the searchlights’ glare.
An hour’s artless, guiltless pleasure,
My mission and all sense of time forgotten.
Yet on returning
Found that my work was done.