The expressway exists as chaos;
cars and trucks streak past,
forward and backward,
weave along the asphalt loom
red and blue and black,
bright and dingy.
Smooth hums and angry roars
carve into every radio choice,
a cacophonous cast of upstagers.
But just now, a clearing emerges,
my car settles between
masses ahead and behind,
a solo dance in the middle
of the show-stopper.
I look around, and initial jitters
settle into the brief quiet,
a moment of contemplative
equilibrium with the driving world
before the rest of the cast
rushes in again from all directions.
This poem captures a rare moment on a busy highway, that time when the car is suddenly alone, if only for a few seconds. It always feels oddly unsettling before it becomes peaceful, something I equate to performing a solo in the middle of a big group performance.
The metaphor I build here works to encapsulate that moment, and set it apart from the frenzy both before and after. I try to let it linger a moment, like a drop of water holding to a leaf before it falls, while at the same time letting its evanescent quality show with the mass of movement before and after.