Driving Home
March 2001

“Driving Home,” New Era, Mar. 2001, 51

Driving Home

The sky is white as clay with no sun.

All is dusty gray.


like porcelain, the scene could crack.

I sit cold in my car.

The drive is serene.

Soon a lazy sun peaks around

the west mountain,

dripping honey into Utah Lake.


My eyes glory in the juxtaposition

until distance leaves it a

smoldering glow above the horizon,

like the tip of a match

when first blown out.

At dusk, a translucent mauve

dusts the chalk-painted valley.


Gray smoke from quaint chimneys

blends with the settling fog.

All is calm.

All is bright.

Still and content.