Oh little cocoon of alleged safety.
I watched the man sitting silently,
rocking slightly,
as if no one else in the world could view his intricate
moment of pain.
Tears of rain scattering the windscreen
little rivers of ache
heavily starched tie knotted ever-so-close to his throat
minute veins throbbing rhythmically at his temples.
This man was a soon to be burst ball.
No liquid trickle descending alabaster cheeks,
no tell-tale sign of shake.
A mystery; what ailed him?
Loss, anger, betrayal. Universal idiosyncrasies.
But what struck me was the car.
Ensconced within,
enveloped by machinery, successfully
separated from the mortal coil.
I often think to myself – where would we go if there were no
cars?
PO
