Somewhere Else

The morning will be cold.

Mist will be heaving

from wet fields

and a pale sun

will break through.

There will be no bustle

from a crowd,

no hum of traffic

on a motorway,

just the gurgling of water

finding its way to the sea.

The village will awaken

and rub its eyes

as shop blinds unfurl the day.

That’s how it will be,

hiding away from life’s glare

in a secure corner of my mind.