The road most travelled 

An event to come home from can turn being in a car on the way home to something quite monumental. 


The road most travelled 


They must be by definition

Of shoe

The most familiar footfall

Of all


Those steps twisting

Making regular rhythms round concrete

On well-worn-known ground

Homeward bound


Your senses needed only to avo

Obstacles id

Some innate guiding system of ours

Steering through houses and bars


Most days automatic recall

Reflex muscle memory

Survival instincts lifting our feet

Slipping downstreet


After big moments of life

Clocks don’t reset

Worlds don’t rest

We take the Great Road, West


Those journeys before unthought

Now suddenly resonate

Across brainwaves and rumble strips

Mulling mist and coastal trips


Emerging from the fog

You are where you always end up

Kettle on, door clicked, dust settled once more

The mantle of memory those walks home wore


Thoughts solidified by the hum of the road

Mind ticking through phone pictures

Piecing conversations amongst shouted songs

Returning heroes loud and strong


Happy New Year!

Sloth, hungover, out. 


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