by Sarah Terzo

Created on: July 31, 2009

"Rush Hour"

The amber glare of the street lamps

reflected off the shiny police tape

set up to protect the scene

from the wandering curious.

The bright flares so carefully placed by policemen

were indifferent to the man

who lay, one hand on yellow lines,

still now, as the twisted taxi

smoked and filled the heavy air

with the smell of oil and burning.

But life pressed on and barely paused.

It drove cautiously by and gazed in wonder

then turned away

to think of coming home to dinner

after a long day at the office

and how much fun the dance would be.

It worried about

Papers to write, chores to do,

and whether it was late.

for working the night shift.

As life moved in the dark green grass

parting the blades and

filling the air with music as

in a battlefield by the side of the road

soldiers attacked and lives were lost

and bodies twitched in crushing mandibles,

But the Queen was protected

and invaders driven, keening, from topsoil.

Life teemed in the air.

It danced on the pores

of sweating paramedics

and reclaimed curdled blood,

digesting it back

into the cycle of things.

As someone's son was lifted gently

off the slick black road.

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