A Minor Gesture - Sept 1 2022

 

A Minor Gesture

Sept 1 2022

I think of a friend

who is now driving a car

with a crumpled side

where the door sticks

and the steering pulls left.

T-boned

at an intersection

by a guy who fled,

burning rubber

and flicking a half-smoked butt

expertly out

with insouciant flair.

And now, I'm at a 4-way stop,

where drivers are either entitled

or paralyzed,

inching, pausing

then jerking ahead

only to stop.

I make eye contact

with the burly bearded man

in the jacked-up truck

with a busted headlamp,

looking down on me

through a cracked windshield

spattered with bugs.

Is this where we learn

the rules of the road?

Practice

the art of negotiation?

Test our capacity

for trust?

He waves me through,

graciously deferring

with a flourish of his left hand.

I nod, as I pass,

smile back nicely.

Then watch, in the rear view mirror

as he lurches ahead,

belching out a cloud

of blue-black exhaust.

What a gentleman, I think

how unexpected.

How a minor gesture

in a stressful day

has restored my faith

in my fellow man.

I'll be sure to pass it on

I say to myself

hopefully.

With what little hope

that remains.