We are driving into mist
Yellow soft-spot drizzle
that caresses with icy hands
our lost bodies
Driving into the muffled,
swallowed dazzle
of the headlamps
the emptiness that is all
we can see ahead
You hold me close
and suddenly
I can see
Suddenly
I can see the future
and it’s a place
A place with you
somewhere in time’s damp swirl
this choking fog
NO VISIONS
NO CERTAINTIES
NO SUDDEN ARTICULATIONS
I KNOW
Suddenly
I can see the future
written on your face
KEEP DRIVING.
Jane Weir
Photo Nick Victor