Tuesday, January 03, 2017

Things we said in the car on the way home

We look out the window, saying nothing for a while
This is more than everything, this drive,
Through the wide and tree-lined streets, we smile,
Shadows shifting and alive.

This is more than everything, this drive,
The words unsaid between us grow
Shadows shifting and alive,
So much for memory, I know.

The words unsaid between us grow,
Like summers when we were young
So much for memory, I know,
I can’t make the shape of language on my tongue  

Like summers when we were young
And there was nothing much to say,
I can’t make the shape of language on my tongue
It doesn’t matter anyway.

And there was nothing much to say.
Through the wide and tree-lined streets, we smile.
It doesn’t matter anyway.
We look out the window, saying nothing for a while.