tale to tale

A cluttered car,
That’s what you’re seeing.
Just the image, nothing more.
Naked to the human eye,
More fills the space of this compact carrier.

Humour, voices, struggles, distances,
Rage, dreams, discarded snacks and a smell so faint.
It’s a collaboration, a mixture of the life lived on the road.

Hard to say exactly what, not to list it all –
That’s the difficulty.
To name every sight, smell, taste and word heard, would be a book.
Not a book, a poem, of sorts, a short and brief tale.

But to say all of this is to bore you,
To bore me.
Can it be enough to know this, just this.
That’s enough.
It’s more than enough.

To take the journey is to carry it with us,
To let is change and mould us.
To be better, to be private.
To change is nice, I’ve had enough of that stone face.
Isn’t that the life of the road? To be open to it?
A traveller is always weathered,
A stoic man is made of stone.
It’s an easy choice.