2013. AFTER THE FIRST OF THE COFFEE

AFTER THE FIRST
OF THE COFFEE
Once the tree limb fell down onto the black
Mercedes, I looked up to see : the crack
and sizzle had caught my attention, all that
ice and its sound descending. The wide fan
of the very big branch kept it from thudding,
but it landed on the car nonetheless. Slap. Crash.
-
A few minutes before, I myself had driven right
over a branch large enough to cause me woe.
The car swallowed it as an ant swallows a dog.
You get the gist. No damage, I don't think. A
bump, and a scratch. All the crazy ice again.
Everything coated as if by glass, and I want to
list my mentions : doorways glazed, sidewalks
as killers, roadways lit like ice rinks in the early
morning streelamp glow. In all, lots of fun to be
had but only if one sought it out.
-
I mostly ignored the adventure. Everyone else, it
seemed, was scurrying. Running to the window to
see what they could see, ('My God! There are two
people in that car! You sure they're OK!). Then the
cops came, those message radios blaring. Down the
street - but from other places and on other cases -
the Princeton ambulances ran their long, loud run.
Sirens and lights, tight, fast turns in slush and ice.
What a morning, and wasn't it nice!