Night Writing

Black ice on the road again
Me and my dog Bob
Chasing down the night riders
Carving up the fog

This road could take us anywhere
There's promise on these bends
And even on the darkest nights
Our searching never ends

There's demons at the roadside
And phantoms on the verge
I'm holding on to some of them
There's some I'd like to purge

The headlamps of a great idea
Can often shine too bright
The blind anticipation
Hides the bounty out of sight

The truth is buffered generously
By force it can't be hunted
To goad at it with heavy arms
Will leave it dull and blunted

This barren hound's an antidote
For my own heart's thick and strange
I'm prone to causing myself harm
On my own barbed mountain range

His gentle heart beats endlessly
My words pull to its flow
The universal rhythms
That we recognise and know

There's debris on the windscreen
And trolls under the bridge
To fight for threads at this late hour
Could cause us pain and damage

Bob's so very tired now
And there's pummelling on my head
We park up for smallest hours
And settle into bed