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.
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