White Black White

white black white winding road ahead another day ruled by endless freight by gods of wind lords of rain just another rotation of the world without you my longing grows day into night like icicles reaching down roadside cliffs a million miles felt then gone marked by places named by bygone men trails, ruts ancient footprints entombed in asphalt mocked by swirling rubbish but no lure of ancient voices hidden places leak through frosted glass and heated steel this road, now, the prison this truck, the cell.