Love how light paints a wet road.
Love the smoky breath of cloud, the greys, the pumpkin colours.
Driving, singing, fill the sky with my noise.
Deep in a belly is a point of universal connection, is the origin of my noise.
Love the gold leaves falling.
On the windscreen, where the coffee steam bloomed is clearing. The flask cup rolls loose. Other lights make starbursts, across glass, across wet road.