Making Good Time - May 16 2022

 

Making Good Time

May 16 2022

The expressway

was badly grid-locked,

and, as if they'd picked the wrong line

at the supermarket check-out

hotshots in fast cars

were jockeying back and forth.

Apparently

smarter than the rest of us,

but no further ahead.

Not rush hour

but a collision.

Through the traffic

I could make out flashing lights,

catch a glimpse

of firetruck red.

A siren cut the air,

an ambulance racing by

speeding up the shoulder.

Exasperated

I looked at the time once again,

late for the appointment

and getting even later.

But it was the worst day of someone's life,

and how could I not think

about precious time

in a different way,

leaning back in my seat

in my idling car,

golden oldies turned up loud

the heat on full.

Until I finally made the front of line,

and was waved through

in the single improvised lane.

The intersection

littered with metal and glass,

crushed cars

angled off to the side,

firemen coiling hoses.

The stench of spilled gas

was ominous,

burning rubber

even worse.

We were all late.

And for the man

who had hoped to make time

and tried to beat the red

it only took one second

to end up with none left.

Out of time

and never late again.