In awe I braked and wound the window down,
A competition of council houses
Flashing gaudily in the crisp night air
And three bicycles parked alongside the low front hedge
Indicating visitors along this country lane.
An approaching land rover rolled to a halt
a man and his collie poked their heads out to absorb the
Glowing spectacular, the sound of local radio clattering
Inharmoniously in the winter night.
Behind us, the shadows of cows at the wire fence, steamed patiently
and time stood still, mometarily, before
a peal of far flung bells broke out and rain began
To drizzle upon the scene.
Stabbing the wiper button, I drove on down the hill
Missing both the man on the shiny silver motorbike,
Who came skidding to a halt as if late for supper,
and the light flicking on at the window, to a baby’s first cry.