The Short Cut

I missed that turn
the short cut
around that forever red light
everyone probably thinks
I'm not from around here
but I was
I didn't grow up in Party Beach,
California
I consider myself lucky
because I dive the opposite
direction
of that
nasty rush-
hour traffic.
this guy in a gray minivan
cuts me off
and rubs his "Jesus Saves" bumper sticker
in my face- before I get
mad I realize he's just like me
or I'm just
like him-
either way-it does nothing for my
faith in humanity
then I pull off the freeway
and notice you

in an old blue Subaru GL
driving right next to me
with my sunglasses and you with
your sunglasses I won't turn my
head for one second to see if you're
looking my way or not
I look straight ahead acting casual
and in control as if I deserve
to drive the same way as you.
I find a reason to look your way
but then
you must have
turned
at that
last
corner.
I don't regret missing your glance.

7-26-94

Brother

He is thick like an oak-
twisting his roots deep
into the soil.
Never bending with the wind-
the impulsive, undecisive wind-
he will not budge for
a broad flowing river.
He reaches far into the earth
for the purest springs.
Though I stretch my limbs
to rocky ground-
where the sun refuses moisture,
and the wind mocks
my feeble buds-
in the evening he lends his
branches- wide and rigid.
His shade spreads out like a veil
extending just enough
to cool me
down-
as if it was his purpose.

7-25-94