shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

David Colodney

Page 1 | 2

What Seems Like Miles

Some kind of madness leads him here,
Where the traffic light cycle ticks off days
Like a metronome.

Street corner messiahs in tattered crusty shirts
Await the stopping cars,
Palms outstretched either in need or
in prayer.

I'd like to ask which as I feel his glare through
The tempered glass on my imported car.
But I stare straight ahead, wishing the light would change.