I took the tube back to the centre
And from Victoria caught the bus.
Leaving the suburbs’ sprawling lights and dregs of motor oil
We chased the M4 back South West
And, dissecting Berkshire, saw them,
Stacked across the sky, mingling amidst the stars:
Flashing dots of brilliance, waiting patiently to land.
And somewhere far behind us
You had taken off.
Sat aboard one of those flashing beads,
Crossing continents and time zones,
The hours peeling away.