the northern road

catefrances

with mountains in the distance
fields on either side of this man made scar
she drifts along with the hum of rubber on tar
she checks her speed and thinks of him
her journey home has become her favourite
the thought of what awaits
a silence filled, a mending touch
she sings along with the songs she hears and thinks...
... its not so hard to imagine as the voice suggests
she smiles and thinks as the distance closes