In Traffic

In Traffic

I hit the brakes

and the stop

makes me think

of his death.

In traffic

my mind

sorts itself.

I find better

plans for new beginnings,

as the streets

wind under me.

Rain pelts

the windshield

and I wonder why

the challenger exploded,

and I quit work.

I live for now

in the car

my island

on the move.

He lies

in the casket

healthy looking

in his death

I turn into

an exit

brake lights blaze,

we stop

I think,

what’s wrong

is my question

to me.

When’s my turn?

In traffic,

the world’s narrow

and now

the future

is now or never, until

the driveway

approaches

it gulps you into

what matters,

and that is…

the fragrance

of what’s important,

us.

gjh 10