There are cedars lining the road,

boughs curving overhead, blessing us as we pass

then out into an unexpected squall-

grey veils pulled down from rankled clouds,

shafts of light pour through blue gaps

making a rainbow rise from the mirrored road,

humming it’s ultra-violet edge where we’ve just been,

driving into the dazzle of low sun,

held for the moment

in a painting of blonding hills and valley oaks

all gilded by the light.

Held for this moment flashing past,

you and me in a sporty car.

A moment, longed for even as it went.