Nightdrive

Condensation crawls

from the windscreen

and creeps

onto the bonnet,

whilst the lamppost lit drizzle

hazes the damp, dull street.

The dashboard glows royally

as the headlights break the black

to bleak.

The stereo reverberates

the rattling sounds

of the night

and drowns out

the engine's meditating hum.

The wipers work overtime

on the petite but persistent perspiration

The raindrops seep through the open window

but the cold slap of air makes me feel alive.

As I set off, into the line moving nowhere,

disgruntled faces obscured by hoods pass by.

Red.

Amber.

Green.

We're off to escape this scene

so that we may look on at it through different windows,

but whilst most are in a rush

I don't want this journey to end.

As elements blend into one,

I'm caught in the pace of life

and I can't decide if it's my control

or lack of it

which eases me so much.

For now I'll take a detour

and keep on driving until the track ends

or the needle points towards empty.

Is speed, time, or distance the limit?

I guess I'll find out when I grind to a stop.