Journey

Lights out, 
I close the book and rest it against my chest,
Looking away through the glass at the headlamps
As the cars approach , they turn to bokeh.
Shifting focus to the hills further ,
Sitting beneath the orange bloom of the descending sun.
It hides, shying away , meekly saying good night.
Only the silhouette remains of the slopes
Punctuated by distant lights 
They twinkle as they keep vanishing behind the tree line.
I feel a subtle romance of the concrete road passing through these hills
Accompanied by the rumble of the diesel motor .
Am I going home or am I on a venture
The answer escapes me 
But I know you’re out there watching and smiling at me.