Sunday, October 27, 2013

The Walk Light at Rives Avenue


The Walk Light at Rives Avenue
 seems to take forever to come on.
Cars come down Florence quick and constant,
flowing as an un-swimmable mass
of blurry colors and blinding chrome.

A man on a rusty bicycle stops
and sets his feet on the concrete walk;
plastic bags full of empty cans
sway back and forth on the handle bars.

On the far side a woman in running shoes
leans against the stop light pole,
presses the metal button once,
and pushes back in a long slow stretch.

We have come to a stop at anywhere,
like townspeople frozen on a page
of a yellowed hardbound picture book,
on a city street between world wars,

waiting for the drawbridge to set down,
sharing in casual nod and glance,
this momentary intersection
of unconnected lives,

or travelers bound together,
by a pause on an ancient river bank,
the ferry still at the opposite shore,
the river moving fast in deep mid stream.

No comments:

Post a Comment