The Second in the Storm

Sounding like the constant gun shots of the youth
In inner cities, trying to escape or embrace their fate;
They think that it's too late
The harder you press on the piece of plastic under your right foot,
The closer, the louder, the more urgent the liquid sound becomes
You know you can't outrun it
Your waist is strung to comfort
And your safety is seemingly the priority,
But no one is immune
To the shards of metal flying out
From the guardian behind your steering wheel
Or from the slurs that cut like a cracked then shattered windshield
But there's a glimpse of rest ahead;
It's hard to make out the figure; your head
Can't determine what it sees behind flooded glass and the seas
That ebb from the corners of your eyes,
But you see a bigger roof in front of you
You push faster and it starts to come into view
The drops are stronger now
The flood is faster
The sound, defeaning, but then
Then, for a second, there's nothing
Nothing--but--silence
And then,
You keep driving