A Luxury Sedan

A luxury sedan in a lone location Moves along in endless time. To be, to pass, and yet remain Unmoved, untouched, Always the same. Suntapped tapers of autumn branches Spread and splinter, stark and bare Against a sky of steely grey. Heavy forks of oak and maple Interlace in timeless arcs. Complex fractals form labyrinths Against a sky of pale contrast. Through this nest of wood there passes A road alive with sounds that ebb and flow Of passing tires on hardened pavement Sending sounds of whispered lapping Like the sound of ocean waves Softly washing a moonlit bank. The sounds emerge and fade again As swiftly as the sinking sound Of silken sand drifting from a hand, Then subside again leaving only silence. A lingering lapse of time unmoved Remains behind – an eternal lair. All around the darkening road, Trees rise stately, solid, strong. Branches lift in exaltation In a greeting to face the evening. Dusk moves gently, stealing slowly, Like the folding of a mourning dove’s wing. And still the sound of sighs persist, Of passing cars on cold asphalt. Untouched, unmoved by nature’s grace. Without a glance, the drivers move To never taste the felicity Of the silent song within The deeply shadowed surrounding wood. A luxury sedan in a lone location Moves along in endless time. To be, to pass, and yet remain Unmoved, untouched, Always the same.