Perspective

The low sun throws

long shadows,

dark daggers across

the road, its eastern fire

out-shined by the

ambulance's lights

coming out of the

vanishing point

up a mile or so,

lights in my eyes

before the sound as other

southbound drivers and I

pull to the side--

a gesture of respect as

much as anything in this

wide, quiet road, an

acknowledgment of

this mortality messenger and

that even the worst commute

is probably better than that.