13 February 2014

I Drove Home Backwards

Freezer fresh rain splats on my windscreen
I inch my way through traffic
clip a kirb to let an ambulance through
sing the next line of that song they play on Radio 1
every day.
It was dark when I left for work this morning
and here I am again.

I swing in and around cars parked on the road
then whoosh onto the long one where
I can be by myself and hum along with the engine.

The clouds streak the sky like tracks on an ice rink
clear and bright and it begins to get brighter.
My windows are closed but I can smell the delicious rain
spitting off the ground, warming 
with each rough turn of the wheels I roll along with.
My eyes shift to the landscape, like a camera 
in and out of focus
and the liquorice tunnel beneath me becomes a record
playing my own song.

White welcomes me home
in a puff swirled on the top of a mountain
sprinkled with snow.
I wind into the embrace of a town 
I am half-heartedly attached to.
Its eyes are fixed, its hands held tight
and feet are firmly on the ground.

My home – where wind, rain and snow 
settle down with no hesitation
and decide they belong.
But I drove home backwards
and there's nobody in.


  1. This is hauntingly beautiful Naomi xxx


    1. Thank you, Sophie <3
      It's the first thing I've written in a long time!
      N xo

  2. Wow, so beautifully written, Naomi! I love reading things like this, makes me wish I could play with words like that!
    Have a lovely weekend!

    Sofie x
    Little green Sofie


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