I am a tree
Trees sleep when they like
They spread their arms
And let the wind do the rest
I’m on a 24 hour bus trip
Each time I wake up, I’m at another place
So when I had been back home for a while,
And a friend asked me: Did you arrive?
Are you present and alive?
I had to say no, for what I had left on the bus.
Just like that day on the airplane,
When it had stopped in mid-air
And my drowsy brain
Took the moon-cratered landscape of the wing
For the country where I was heading.
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