Don’t shave off your bark

Don’t hack back the wild places

Where unique blooms straight up

Bright like a scarlet bougainvillea frond

Conformity is over rated and bland

Opinions are formless

They slip down the uncurated

Tumbling straight off raw edges

There is nothing to hold them

In a chuckle and wry shake of head

I have no place left for other

I am full to the brim

On what could be

I’m not waiting any longer

And the warmth of the sunlight through my windscreen

The expanse of view

Holds my whole attention

I have no space for tension

Find questions barely worth a mention

Either his or hers, theirs

Or my own

Let the world fill in the gaps

And I’ll deal with it as I cross

Never looking down

Or back

Lost

In the pure potential of the moment

Driving driving driving – lucky I love it – and the scenery – nearly 2000km over the last week – it’s good to be back again. Now I’m so tired in front of the fireplace on the couch I don’t want to get up and go to bed. Some photos from the road and a few more snippets of thought and poetry below that

Night