Something changed that night,
full-beam irradiating gleaming green needles
strewed across the silence and the desolate dust,
cascaded horse-chestnuts crunching on the coarse gravel.
As my droning wheel-bearings startled those intrepid foxes
who had dared to make the white paint their bed,
the black cat's eyes glinted towards the ebonized sky
as if their master was prepared for flight.
Much like the foxes' ill-fortuned sleep,
my small-hour soundtrack was disconnected
by some strange interference suggesting a return to signal;
a tinkering tone I could forgive
for I now find myself back in the civilization I had loved to avoid.
Through all the twists and turns,
and incandescent lunar-lit landscapes
I cannot shake your mind.