Slowing down to the speed limit,
One mile an hour by the second.
Misplaced traffic signals of bright red.
The bright red growing fairly quickly,
Dust beginning to form around the redness.
Brake lights are now a constant blur.
The Motion is now almost to a stop,
Brightness grows in the mirrors from behind,
Honking begins to take over the senses.
To a complete stop,
Sight is fogged by minute particles of dirt.
Nothing is within sight of me.
Widened sight to unexpected traffic,
Feet are replacing the wheels that run,
The heart replaces the engine that roars.
They look at me with hurry,
I look at them in astonishment.
Their eyes look into mine and worry.
The worries pass.
The chippers are behind the worries,
Catching the inevitable that waits.
Traffic begins to flow once more,
Not knowing if something would pass by,
In this traffic that is so unexpected.