movingaway
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The cacaphony of the tape tearing.
A moment ago it was there,
the next it wasn't.
I floated away.
Craving one last moment.
One last memory.
Hello, I don’t think we’ve met yetI’m Rose!I was but a bud yesterdayWhen you came to weedThe garden plotwhere I was once a seedBut I’m grown now!And I can see you,
"Drive west," they tell me
And so I leave
Making my way through hills covered with windmills
Deserted deserts
And
Half-forgotten forests
