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The Shams of Optimism

An hour away from home,

The lights come on.

Standing at the side of the road,

I am in awe.

Amongst the snow and trees,

The freezing cold,

I thrive on each sorrowful note.

For the moment, all is still,

A tranquil pace.

The ease of being stranded,

In this compassionate place

Amongst the snow and trees,

The air is cold and clean,

and for the moment, I am at peace.

Being able to enjoy a disaster

is a sham of being so optimistic.

Now that the thrill has worn off,

and the adventure has lost it's charm,

I just want to go home.

Still waiting at the side of the road,

The hours have passed, since I last moved.

Head down, eyes closed,

Into a suspended sleep I fall.

Then in sequence, from far to near,

Light reflects off of objects before...

A sun, of the darkest blues,

Rises from the hills behind...

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