On The Avenue

This poem had its beginnings on a Florida street corner waiting for a red light.

We sat on the corner
and watched
while pieces of her life
rolled away.
Like tumbling apples
eddying around her feet
skittles cascading
on a bon voyage
to the gutter.

The moment was—a trifle.
Comic to us
cosmic to her.
We never considered
or cared for her
purpose in that place.

For our amazed amusement
Her essence burst
and ebbed away
from her—reach.
Her desperation pitched
Her forward while
Bits of her spattered—
Silent hail against reality.