The infinite stretch of tarmac

Has a hypnotic effect

Any sense of rhyme or reason

Is lost in the unconsciousness.

Droves of lambs with no agenda

Surrounded by crisp morning sun

Are a welcome distraction

From sudden, unforeseen delays.

Water slowly trickles upstream

Like pollutant cars up the bridge –

Imposing and industrial –

Which cut through this serenity

To make way for what? Horns, break lights

Destinations, pissed off faces.