There is a silence
that settles when the engine quiets,
when the vibration of the seat breaks off,
and dust sifts in the air.

The sun is going down,
reflecting in the flecks that hang between us,
I watch the floating spots of sun
even when his hand reaches for the door,
and I think for the first time, I can see in slow motion.

From This is the Colour I Love You Best
(WithWords Press)