shall we do when we reach the place
Where the desert begins?
What if we should lose one another
Or turn back, defeated?
Where the road markings end and then
The road itself, the mind's eye
Pearls into blindness.
A hundred horizons merge, directionless -
Yet strike out we must
In search of something we can't even picture.
enough to worry about all that, you reckon?
I expect you're right - I always meet
Trouble quarter-way - just like my Dad,
"Aye lookin' for snaw an' there's nane fa'in."