Monday, 22 April 2013

A Golden Evening

I'm driving a winding road where green hills meet shady woods and the river glitters blackly.

The sun heads down in blood red.

I once found you by piecing together clues.

Now you've dropped off my horizon the clues come my way again. First, like last time, is a number. This winding road runs through your code. I look at tradesmen's vans to confirm it. I know I'm getting warm. The river sparkles under a bridge. I know that bridge from a Thomas Hardy novel. I can't remember which one.

It leads to a pretty town where the centre is dominated by an electrical shop. White letters on blue. Like that Dire Straights song, it's your face I'm looking for on every street. Then I give it up. Head on back to the bridge.

Felt numb as I entered another region where they have a different code. I was as cold as the trail.

I won't pick it up again. No matter how many clues you pass my way.

I think that there's a pattern in this. Who am I to break its beautiful, fearful symmetry?

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