Friday, June 26, 2009

night commute



In the hustle and congestion,
traffic signals
blink
directions, overlapping
arcs of streetlamps
reflect
on hubcaps and trashcan lids,

movement passes for light.

If
we keep moving
toward the quieter ways,
the outskirts
and edges of suburbs,
into deeper
(often darker)
spaces, speed limits slow and we
come to see:

Our headlights have been off this whole time and we didn't even notice.

2 comments:

Sabrina said...

Yikes! Did you guys do this? Great poem.

Haley Ballast said...

um... maybe?? but if i write about it in a poetic manner then it becomes ambiguous as to whether i am describing an actual event... or just being poetic! :) ahh writing is fun.