I like to sit at the intersection and watch the cars go by

I wonder where everyone’s going

What’s on their minds

That lady behind the wheel, does she have it all together

Or does she have a migraine

Exacerbated by the rap music in the car beside her

Or the neon pink minivan’s headlights across the way – they couldn’t be brighter

Or is it the marijuana scent floating up to her brain

Everyone drives 50 in a 30

Though it’s not even 7 am

Sometimes the sidewalk is dirty

I envy pedestrians

How many people my age die in car crashes

I’m guessin’

As another car passes

Why’s everyone speeding

Don’t they know there’s a grave at the end of the road

Don’t they see the cones

I’m a little dot in someone’s eye

To someone up in the sky

And I admit sometimes I look up at the clouds when I drive

Wishing for things to be right

The other side of the windshield boasts promise

Baby blue and pink

A horizon I can only glimpse

But driving these roads makes my spirit sink

All our tragedies, failures, and sins mix

When I run I escape it a little bit

But the dirt finds me

In the form of judgements or prejudice

I too am a speeder and a tailgater

But I can’t help believe that there’s some goodness

I know every pothole

I see the faces at the bus stop

The traumatized soldier and the corrupt cop

Aren’t we all on the road

Somewhere at the intersection

Looking at the sky and these people, I see my own reflection

Can I reach through and pull the goodness down

To cause migraines, cancer, depression, addiction, racism to drown

Can these streets be cleaned

I keep driving but I want to break free

To ascend into that sky

To see the grave bereaved