Ears
In the middle
Where I’m at
a short road for motors
longer for legs
The cars come in groups
Clusters
from each direction, loud
and sharp
Piercing the wind.
A stoplight at both ends lets
The cars cross the middle.
In this middle
Where I’m at.
Some louder, younger cars
Booms from cracked speakers shake trees
Others old leaking, polluting
Black smoke.
There are flowers on both sides of the road,
White crosses.
Collisions, fires, traffic
Screaming.
Still sometimes when both stoplights
at both ends
are red for just a moment,
then in the middle
where I’m at,
gets real quiet
and I can hear the birds.
Bionote
Colton Adrian is twenty-one. He keeps the lights on for work and writes when he's not doing that. He escaped via C-section and was birthed in Williamsburg, Virginia. He’s been there ever since and has been plotting a breakout involving a pen and a pad for the last two years. This will be his first publication.