Rob Schackne #98 - Taking The Ride Out On A Dark Green Night

Taking The Ride Out On A Dark Green Night


One night, the moon as big as your fist
Walk to the end of the lane, flag a cab
Tell the darkened head to drive to the bush
You want to watch the swaying birds sleeping
And hear the night-whisper of the wind again
At first there's a little conversation, it's late
Someone unoccupied selected occupation
No need for the dismal academy, you say
The trees and power poles are unwinding
On the twisting roads out of the autumn city
The old mountain hills are coming closer
Open the window, touch your hand outside
Finish speaking lightly of the end of days
Where you going, mate? Just drive please
Round the bend, down a dip, a hill of shadows
Somewhere then, there's your moment. Stop.