A Poetry Sporadical of Repeating Forms
A Poetry Sporadical of Repeating Forms
Our morning washed of details,
we move through a gray blanket—
our cars glide more quietly,
our morning washed of details.
Traffic lights come from nowhere.
Our cars glide more quietly.
Caution is our best defense:
traffic lights come from nowhere
at the last minute. We see
caution is our best defense
on this whitewashed workday.
At the last minute, we see
someone who wasn’t careful
on this whitewashed workday.
Police strobe lights pierce the haze:
someone who wasn’t careful.
Respectfully, we slow down;
police strobe lights pierce the haze.
We move through a gray blanket—
respectfully, we slow down.
Bruce W. Niedt is a “beneficent bureaucrat” who has begun to see the retirement light at the end of the workaday tunnel. His poetry has appeared most recently in Writer’s Digest, US 1 Worksheets, Shot Glass Journal, Edison Literary Review, and the anthology The Best of the Barefoot Muse. His latest chapbook is Breathing Out (Finishing Line Press, 2009).