Driving Home

 

Driving Home

 

The road is bejewelled with the lights of traffic

Red ribbon, white ribbon, snaking over the hills

Dark fields lie beside us as we wend our way

The villages we bypass shine stray lights to our eyes

I turn off the radio and drive in silence

Motoring into the dark, climbing and swooping

As the moon illuminates us all

I slide off at my junction taking the tight French style curve

And home beckons

 

Copyright © 2015 Kim Whysall-Hammond

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