He was driving in circles,
around and around,
slowly,
day by day,
year by year,
as the landscape changed
by the light and seasons
and as the world spun and rotated
around its mother Sun.
He was getting somewhere,
then nowhere, not realizing
that the trip was only back
from whence he had come—
over and over again.
His mind was not on the road
but rather on the gluttonous
breakfast he had, and how
it refused to find its way
past the middle of his stomach.
As his car jumped over a deep pothole
he was jarred into consciousness
and wondered if the surroundings
were slightly familiar
or just a figment of his imagination.
And then his stomach growled once more
as he left the road once again
to travel
in his mind, around and around,
again.
No comments:
Post a Comment