Three Lanes
Fendergems in the blink of
twilight, a charcoal skein over
the edge of the city we wait.
Two rivers, opposing.
Candy red, laundry white.
Perfection of teamwork.
Pressing does no good.
Ten feet gained, ten feet lost.
Setting off alarms.
Do it for your own sake.
For the candy red inside your chest,
the pulsing, musclebound traffic cop.
You’ll be home when you’re home.
From the collection Fields of Satchmo
Photo by MJV
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