Your eyes open slowly
and once again
I am on a long road
watching the dawn
ache across that pale
sky.
We are quiet
enough
to hear the sparrows
rise miles off
in the distance
and the lightness
is unbearable.
It is the small things
that will return
to you.
Remember that
always.
The smell of thunder
when you lifted your hand
past me
to light a cigarette.
The perfect sorrow
of sadness and smoke.
As we drive,
the sun beats from
behind the blur of
the trees
and the skyline
and I think,
what a strange beauty
it is
that from the moment
we met
the world has seemed to
rush by
with no form.
Just a wash of colours
and changing light
through your open
car window.