Kashmir Road

I spend hours, days even thinking of ways to avoid all that has come,
all that is approaching.

Ernest sneers, John plays the blues and Jack keeps walking.

Just when I think I’ve got it licked there you are.
Smiling back at me from the tracks of our life.

Was it that many bottles of Scotch ago?

It seems like the universe has found us again.
How will our story be told when the end comes…

For me…

I welcome the crossed path, if only to say those things that never died in me…