The hum of the wheels against pavement
whir of air through the windows
and nothing else

No music-
because what would be apropos?

-and no voices
because I'm not talking to my self today

'cause I wouldn't listen anyway
Old job and friends behind me
a warm bed and a chair that holds my imprint
behind me

The sound of surrender is too low for me to hear and
300 miles isn't far enough away.