by Kristen Paff

A white Crown Vic rounds the traffic circle,
I see the car’s old spot light, a revelation of its former life.

As it passes through to the other side,
I wonder if I’ll make it.

The cop drove a Crown Vic, gave me resources, shelter numbers; told me it will only get worse.

I think about my kids, money, a job; the pleas for forgiveness. But now, I’m always afraid
The cop was right, but I already knew that.

The circle has cleared and it’s my turn to cross.
Carefully, slowly, I begin.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s