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.