The prompt is a poem inspired by a piece of music.
Homeward Bound.
I have sat in so many railway stations
And bought so many tickets.
I have travelled in cars with cassette players
And 'mix tapes' of whatever the driver fancies
But in my own car, no, I have albums.
At one time copies on tape, later on cd,
Now on a SD card and set to shuffle.
None of them have the impact of
The Simon and Garfunkel song the first year
I spent in the Lakes.
Any song from them takes me back instantly
To hot days at Scout Crag, and long lunches in the pub,
To journeys over mountain passes, and bank holidays
With too many people in one place, cars parked
Along the road and blocking gates, litter dropped
And the local farmer dredging the septic tanks
And spraying the contents on his fields . . .
Pretty pale pink and blue fragments fluttering
In the breeze and the sewage-smelling-wind bringing
The message of wrongly flushed sanitary towels
On display in broad daylight.
The soundtrack of my mistakes, and all my words
Come back to me in shades of mediocrity,
Harmonising their emptiness and I feel
A longing for someone to comfort me.
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