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
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.
David Colodney studies poetry and creative writing in the MFA program at Converse College, and serves as assistant poetry editor of the South 85 literary journal. He has written for The Miami Herald and The Tampa Tribune, and his poetry has previously appeared on Egg. He lives in Boynton Beach, Florida, with his wife, three sons, and golden retriever.