You, driving, bare-armed
In the chill morning
Trespassing from the
Long part of the day
To the lit
I find you don't mind
The challenges that
Certain situations present to you
A sign of good faith
Is all that you require before
The evening draws you
Back onto yourself
The engine still warm when
I lay my hand on the bonnet
Waiting for you to come in
From the garden, as though
You had physically gathered
The hours in by hand, I can well understand
Your reluctance to let them go.