Silence, islolation, solace,
I remember how I must have been
Or the other,
In a red car just like that one –
In a similar hurry.
When I must have passed the street,
A guitar on my back,
Kicking at the wild dog that followed me.
I must have felt this wind before;
It isn’t uncommon this time of the year.
There weren’t always just this many cats here,
People. Or rather, the lack of them all.
The heat shouldn’t have taken away so much;
Surely there are things resistant to fire.
Perhaps the earth I loved
Is buried somewhere under the ashes.
rather like me.