Rush Hour

As another day unwinds
the tic-toc-tics of traffic
lights pace bright-eyed
vehicles through an intersection
so they won’t collide.
The pavement is still wet, but the sun
is coming out and this upbeat mood may stick.

All over the city work grinds
to a halt of one kind or another. The shadows
of buildings fill the street
like lovers lying back onto sheets, woes
dashed. Hopes pile
up in new directions. Horns bleat
their jubilation for the rank and file.