the drive back

we’re half way home
an hour left to drive
the car is old and the steering is vague
a wheel bearing is noisy, the headlights are dim
we have finished the take away coffees
the wet road winds and the wipers flick noisily
the odd car slows to pass on the narrow A road
and as we accelerate again your hand finds mine

i think of the past road
but i don’t want to think of what is ahead
if i could just freeze the moment
there is nothing good ahead