U-TURN

From busy roads and empty parking lots,

The nature of concrete streets and neon lights

Seems congruent with the patterns of life.

Daily, and almost as if routine,

Red cars, blue cars, and green alike

Travel great distances, North and South.

In the morning their white smoke

Joins the clouds in filling the air.

In the evening their bright lights

Join the stars in lighting the night.

Of all different sizes they drive,

Some two, mostly four, few eighteen,

Continuously over patches of grass

Protruding from the cracks in the road.

Each year, the median, which at first was

Home to many trees and many greens,

Shrinks as the size of the road

Widens and broadens in breadth,

So the many travelers can gas some more.

Perhaps the day will come,

When the frost and ice collect on my windows,

I ignore their cold presence because

I can no longer bear what I’ve seen,

Of busy roads and empty parking lots.