Lit by the distant sun
in a backyard beer-garden
overlooking the meadow
my swimming brain spins out
through adventures of the past
forgotten journeys
by coach, by plane
through unfamiliar landscapes
to the desert
in California
We rode the Greyhound
between the sun-drenched cities
your head lay on my lap
and when we could tear
our eyes from one-another
we’d watch the world pass by
in technicolour, all new
We stayed on Sunset Boulevard
you lay naked on the hotel bed
while I stared hard at maps
and planned
before turning my gaze to you
we ran down Long Beach
never questioning our love
This evening, I wonder
if you will ever
return to America
will you share those moments
with someone new
can he afford to hire a car
so you don’t have to
ride the Greyhound
stare out of the window
laughing at the wind farm…
[2006]
Thanks for reading.
The Lighthouse 