Waves

Cars, like waves swish past.

Distant sound of engines forever passing, here then lost, tossed on the tides of time and space.

A horn sounds, a driver going somewhere perhaps.

 

My study. Books in cases stand. A poster on a wall, the dolphin swims, forever caught on paper.

 

The night is dark. Outside engines rev and die. In my room the dolphin looks down from the picture. A fish on a wall, how strange.

 

Thoughts travel with vehicles along endless roads, while I sit, the dolphin looking on, swimming perpetually on a wall.