Blowout along the way to work
I stop on the shoulder to change the tire
cars speeding by so fast
I felt hot gusts with
the violence of their passing.
And this violent street
seemed so serene
only moments earlier as I
navigated its easy turns
in a climate-controlled environment
listening to mid-century
French crooners on my iPhone.
Now I see the edges of the road
are littered with tire scraps and shards
of shattered auto glass
a raccoon corpse bloats in the sun.
I am changing my tire quickly
harassed by speeding sideview mirrors
which seem almost to clip my shoulder
carelessly close, I curse unconcerned drivers
such an impact would surely leave me crippled.
And as I finish mounting the tire
eager to return to my former idyll
I spot a buzzard at the tree line
patiently waiting for me to die
or else leave it to the raccoon carcass.