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| her hood |
My daughter is driving; I’m sitting in the
back.
Writing.
It’s raining.
She switched the windscreen wipers on
without asking; she knows what to do.
She’s independent.
I’m relaxed, I feel confident.
Yes, sure, I helped her learn to drive - but
now I’m a passenger.
She doesn’t need me.
I need her.
She’s playing her CD – a playlist she put
together before we set out.
It’s ok.
Ish.
I need my music if I’m driving, but I’m not
and this music I can filter out as I write.
Maybe it helps.
OOOOOh Baaaaaby.
It’s night, the road is black, the sky too
– we are following the white line.
There is nothing else.
A void.
In fact this ‘music’ is perfect.
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