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I Guess We’ll Just Keep Going…

 The image in this poem comes from the common experience of a car driving past a wreck on the freeway. It plays on the inability, in the midst of busyness, to stop and see the pain in another lives. Instead, we often need to trivialize or minimize pain in order to carry on at the pace we want to live. It pains me to think how much of our hearts we neglect because of someone's rule to produce, accomplish and survive. Isn't life a bit more significant that this?

Response to Footfall by Julie Maclean

words squeak out
                        a tight throat
fingering someone else’s phone
            describing scenes
                        shaped like pen in hand
turning over
                        words in order to
twist until
                        we make some sense

common things slip away

            into the nothingness we all long for

                        but a bit too afraid

to glimpse it
            in the car scratches
            and angry faces
                        didn’t you know
                        people still yell
                                    on telephones
            imagining body language
                        can be observed
                                    by those voices in our heads
driving by them, we
            only breath a
then remark something about traffic
            biting our tongue
                        to keep from swearing
            in front of the kids
                        is this all the work our will has done
                                    in rushing years of practice
                        only to bite
                                    and a blink
                                    (as if nothing happened)
                                               when their last breath


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