by M. M. Kolf
There on the face
Of a sphere
That spins while racing
Swift orbits
Encompassing a flawless star
Set in the freezing vastness
Of a cold black universe.
There you are
Sitting in your car
Staring at a red light
To watch the change
That you might move your foot
And be off
To the next light.
Where are you going?
Without a thought
To what might be waiting
After all the lights
And after all the goings
When all that’s left is you
Staring at your maker.
