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Thanks, Bill. I'll think about the alternative title. I've been taking a few (too many?) journeys lately, thus, circularity. And one of our wattles is indeed bowed down with blossom at this chilly time. Cheers, Jill On 29/07/2015, at 9:31 PM, Bill Wootton wrote: > Takes a few reads, Jill. I like the sense of circularity and certainty. Striking opening and closing lines. 'Nothing yellow happened' is memorable, as is 'You're going somewhere, no place.' In fact that last line could work as an alternative title? > > Bill > >> On 29 Jul 2015, at 8:13 pm, Jill Jones <[log in to unmask]> wrote: >> >> Cars, Those Sirens >> >> >> >> There’s nothing calming in a car. >> >> The decisions all go against you. >> >> Timing doesn’t work either. >> >> Like the year you never had spring >> >> and nothing yellow happened >> >> until the wattle bloomed in winter >> >> too early. Now a car waits, it’s white >> >> and seemingly all-encompassing >> >> with a lot of doors. >> >> It smells as though something’s melting. >> >> There’s dust on the glass maybe >> >> or the thought of more travel. >> >> That song! It never worked. >> >> ‘We’ll go no more a-roving’. >> >> They’ll never fix time zones, or provinciality >> >> the need for postcards, airport coffee >> >> or scanners. >> >> The car leaves, the car arrives. >> >> You come back, you go again. >> >> You’re going somewhere, no place. >> >> You’re sitting waiting for the crash, the sirens. >> >> They come forward with gifts. >> >> They steal your luck and your luggage. >> >> They never let you go. >>