Coming back home from Granny’s in the car
I try to stay awake. I really do.
I look around to find the evening star
And make a wish. Who knows? It might come true.

I watch the yellow windows whizzing by
And sometimes see a person in a room,
Cutting a loaf of bread, tying a tie,
Stretching, or watching the telly in the gloom.

I see the street lamps flash past, one by one,
And watch how people’s shadows grow and shrink.
It’s like a trick; I wonder how it’s done
I breathe, and watch, and settle back to think.

But everything gets mixed and far away;
I feel I’m moving but don’t know where.
I hear a distant voice which seems to say,
‘Wake up!(She’s fast asleep.) Wake up! We’re there!’