At the stop before the exit
I hunch, feathered, on my late day perch
Above the overhead red light
Next to this enameled quick cam,
Black next to white,
I glance at the human tech
Then down its lens,
Wide the aperture
To the hectic-busy stopped cars
Beneath
Gazing down through time
To their future deaths
These preoccupants
Too busy for this Present,
Way too many,
So it goes--
Evermore.
In the Light,
Dan Wilcox
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