dawn

a bird sings a scratchy song not far away. the man shakes the morning slumber and looks up at the leaves in the trees above him. there are greens of all descriptions falling down on him, blurry in the newly accessed brain. brain wakes up. isn't it funny that for all our science we are still divided into heart and mind. no, it's not funny, it's tragic. this is the fact that can not be avoided. fetch some twigs, make a fire, pretend you don't know there is a world out there where things can be connected seemingly. breakfast of gods. just him and the sun. and one day he tried to explain to her how the sun makes this noise at dawn that can be heard above the din of the traffic and the mooing cows. but she didn't understand because she just wanted to love him. and there is such a huge distance between loving and understanding. bollocks. turn the coals this way and that. drink the burnt coffee. get back on the machine. on the road. follow me, him, her. i miss you.