Perfection
Legs moving towards the stoplight,
Cars do the same,
Greeting the old lady,
As always, she is there.
The same time of day.
Oh how I love this harmony,
Look how perfectly everything fits in,
As punctual as clockwork,
The same people,
A similar day;
Like yesterday,
Like tomorrow??
***
Tears rolling down my cheek,
This, I didn’t want to hear,
Looking at the clock_
I’m late.
Hurrying towards the stoplight
The old woman is not there
The people I don’t recognise,
The cars are different,
All because the different time.
A noise from the distance,
Growing louder overly fast_
Coming towards us, the known sound,
Disturbing the calm quiet morning.
Speeding up our every movement,
Not scared of it, yet we disperse,
Out of its way.
It passes as fast as lightning,
Taking its sound with it
Stunned…
I leave a prayer,
For the old woman.
Or the stranger.
Nothing is as bad as this lingering doubt.