I find myself in the shadow of the past that follows my present tense around. I sit in the pocket and recount all that has occured-and it is here where I wish to remain for now, tucked away in the wake of my mistakes. I feel my body underneath my skin-watching landscapes pass without focusing my eyes on any particular sights-merely taking in the green and brown; the branches that line lonely lots in long stretches of farm towns. I settle beneath and allow the surface to come to me. And there is my past, reachably embodied within me.

On these roads there is no one following, and one feels that past lives in different cities can be left behind.