Diesel
The tang of diesel hangs still in the frigid air,
driver long gone,
a vivid moment reaches through the stagnant vapour.
Walking to middle school
down snow packed alley ways
the rumble of a truck fading as I pass.
Winter birds break through the drone with their stark caws
they scold the idling quiet,
an echoing sneer reflected from the sky.
Work boots thud on porch steps as a man heads out to work,
he eyes me walking as I watch him warily,
fluttered wings scatter when the driver side door slams.
Growl turns to roar when the pedal is pressed,
I watch wheels churn through ruts
as a new silence lingers in the man’s tracks.
I step into the hushed air still heavy with fumes
that nothing but time and distance can dissolve,
where only feathers and falling snow feel changing winds.
Back from the vapour I swipe my key at the gate,
it rings my passage through
and shuts behind with a clang.
