Gone this morning
out the window
towards the blossoming trees
where the little birds
are singing
their blind
love song for the world.

I was almost out
And almost free
I had slipped the chains
You'd tied to me

I'd dug the tunnel
and made it through
The flame it flickered
The moon in view

I made the highway
Towards the sea
I was almost there
And almost free

I travelled by night
I crossed the line
I passed the border
My papers signed

I was almost there
my life was new
when I was caught
and returned to you.

There is fresh coffee
and peaches on the table
the sun is shining through
the open kitchen door
where your son
is counting the bricks
of the stonewall,
distracted only
by a bee inspecting
the heart of a nearby
sunflower.

Despite what they say
the mind is more
reckless than the heart,
ready to climb aboard
any passing distraction,
waving over it’s shoulder at you
as it stands you up at this table
staring vacantly at the waitress
with the red headband
but it could have just as easily been
the old man in the corner
eating chocolate ice cream alone
or for that matter
the dog ******* on the corner
of the rain drenched street
or this fly investigating itself
in the mirrored coffee jug,
each one deserving
a love song of their own.