i'm the drone of a distant engine
   you hear it but never go to it
i'm the  rush of blood to your head
  you feel it but do not crumble
i'm the swishing wind in your garden
  i tell you about fads and phases
        but you pay me no heed
i'm the distracted man passing by
you want to know my destination
           but you never ask
lest that adage about curiosity and the cat
       should turn out to be true
i'm the love you know you're losing
      but sorrow and rejection
           were also made
                  for you
                  as for me
         So dear home-bound
   hold fast to what you found
            that nasty morning
of numb thoughts and frozen breath