Around a miniscule finger
Dimensions bend, for the clock is round.
Here we are outside time
It passes us by, a cold, hard strip, interspersed with cat’s eyes
To think is to progress, travel is relative to your state of mind
They pass us by, here by the road side
But the road was only in your mind
You overlooked the most important thing
We are here, we always have been
To travel is to live
Here we are living
By the side of the road.
© Christopher Julian Hudson (1994)