The National Express misses me

According to their email
there is a seat waiting with my name on.
I could go anywhere
for just a few quid, except here
where the hills are thumbs up
and blue tractors pop to the shops for milk,
a place where the roads are spaghetti
and the sheep have never heard of bills.
There’s a tree here with apples
who nod their heads hello
when you arrive.
I’m not sure how we got here
but I’m sure it involved sweat and tears.

© Carl Burkitt 2022

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