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.