Travels

 

Out of windows overused

into the rounded distance

where time does not stand still

but swarms in coexistence

of all things past and present

of youthful thoughts –

forgotten knots

that never really come or go

relentlessly they slide on waves,

the memory’s tetchy ebb and flow.

And as the grown-up mind

flies dreams at half mast

you gently push away the veils

to see them come undone

into explosive streams of rust.