to the south
early morning commute snarled
cars hopping off the highway
onto rural route sixteen
lights flash
fire trucks coming in hot
from the city
an ambulance rushes past
in the other direction
racing down the icy shoulder
to the north
driving slow
in bleary eyed traffic jam
a cow in the hay field?
...no there are two
a mother moose
ploughing a deep snow trail
for her calf
It's poems like this one that rekindle my thought that humans are basically good, and only blackened by the few horrible ones that somehow manage to exert their malign influence on millions.
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