moments i write about

Second-guessing my sunglasses in the sun,  
or my umbrella in the rain.  

Glancing around to see   

if anyone else is doing the same.  

In that flicker-  
am I passing for normal at all?-  

I catch glimpses of strangers  
in rush-hour cars;  

  
a man gripping the wheel at ten and two,  
apple in his gob like a horse.  
A girl in the passenger seat, rollers in,  
a child clutching a dog.  
And a woman chewing her necklace chain-  
my habit, mirrored  
in the opposite lane.  

The pair of us,  
our separate lives,  
maybe she’s worried she won’t make it on time.  

People singing.  
Texting.  
Laughing.  
Holding ice cream cones like cigars.  

My poetry is simple; 

pieces that say I was here-  
paying attention  
to all of them,  
sitting alone in their cars.