The sky all shades of blue with purple streaks
Warm swathes of tangerine towards the coast
The dark blue behind all too quickly creeps
The brightness ahead dims like distant hopes
Look into this darkness - numberless ghosts
All scurry through black tunnels, wait in lines
Their dead white eyes betray no sign they host
Within each machine, all-controlling minds
And so we drive ourselves on, disinclined
To stop until all homes are at last reached
Comforted by the fire, shoelaces loosed
Thinking we're free as long as home's light shines
Safe in bed, visualising sunlit peaks
Giving our cold engines a timely boost
Mon 1 Dec 2008
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