(the Valley)

On April 8, 2015 by Neil

driving to where I write, in a small, green car,

is apparently not as inconspicuous as I thought …

 

approaching the black truck, I see the arm thrust sideways out of the window,

the straightened hand, the glaring eyes and the shaved head …

and, stunned – almost panicked, I drive past and up the hill,

seeing the salute

in my rear vision mirror … before it is pulled back in to the cab.

 

and creeping, ever so slowly, so freely, so precipitously …

back to humanity’s “never again!” hilltop

the venomous stare accelerates –

hissing, straining forward, striking with unnoticed stealth.

 

there is a gut-wrenching anxiety in my chest, an aloneness

that comes from other’s incomprehension …

 

and this will be a day of pain that makes me shudder as

I drive home across the railway tracks.

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