while changing the tyre

while changing the tyre
he spoke of his childhood
i was just a hitch hiker
no plans.
       the things he spoke of
made sense; dreams,daydreams
i had them too, watched them fade
like mud patterns by the seasonal rain.
now he only had a car
and the road, which to him,
had become a second rate drama
playing over and over again.
after it was over, we drove off
while i turned back to observe
the moment blur and dissappear.