Imagine You Are Driving
Imagine you are driving
nowhere, with no one beside you,
with the empty road unravelling and ravelling
in sympathy as the wheel turns in your hands.
On either side the wheatfields go shimmering
past in an absence of birdsong, and the sky
decants the shadows of the weather from itself.
So you drive on, hopeful of a time
when the ocean will rise up before you like dusk
and you will make landfall at last —
some ancient, long-forgotten mooring
which both of you, of course, will recognise;
though as I said before, there is no one beside you
and neither of you has anywhere to go.
from Grain (Picador, 2009), © John Glenday 2009, used by permission of the author and the publisher.