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Morning Rush

Morning Rush

got his window

rolled

and flicks his cig

and I watch it

bounce and roll

to stop

the drift a version

just went through

red light, green light

his pick-up truck

nothing but dust

move on

to fill the tank

press the buttons

yes

no

and look up

at the slats

a corner of the covering

belongs to that bird

and he watches

that woman

walk to her car

with that big bag

of tater chips

that gulp drink

what he’d give

for a chip

crank the tank

watch the needle

hit the gas

the brake

see the leaves

rush upstream

like swimming salmon

a nest of swarming

honey bees

TL

Published inTamiko Lowery