Sedan

On rain‑slick streets a sleek saloon glides,
Its polished bonnet catching city lights,
A quiet hum beneath the muted tyres,
Where commuters share the hush of night.

The boot holds dreams, the rear‑view mirrors sigh,
Reflecting streets that blur like watercolour,
While London fog drapes soft, indifferent,
And the sedan drifts on, a steady mover.

In suburbs calm or bustling market squares,
It bears the rhythm of everyday fare—
A British workhorse, modest, sure, and true,
Its steadfast grace in every mile it knew.