Morning Thoughts

I drove to work the usual way and wondered if in five or ten years I live elsewhere, will some other drive remind me of this road, this drive, this morning?

Trees heavy with green press down towards the narrow old road still patterned with wet from the monsoon rain yesterday, this song on the radio:

My breathing slowing to zen at the stop light from the song, the morning's pink newness, the bell tones of a bird call, the big digital clock flashing 7:16 / 67; the woman next to me in the silver BMW slipping backwards from her own zen state.