Dawn March

[tomoffing]

Halt!
Don’t Walk,
a red man signals.
I wince in the noxious black
flatulence of a passing bin lorry.
Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick
the green man says “Go!”
I stride forward braced
for impact with the advancing line-
shoulders collide
with overhanging bags and
briefcases bite into shins; the horror!
causes one crosser to freeze
in the firing line of an oncoming bus.
Every eye averted, except
those of carrion pigeons
scouring for dismembered donuts.
The driver leans hard and heavy
on the horn and shocks
the fool from their stupor,
and they scuttle to safety.
Is it any wonder no one whistles
on their way to work anymore.

[Erthona]

"The driver leans hard and heavy
on the horn and shocks
the fool from their stupor,
and they scuttle to safety.
Is it any wonder no one whistles
on their way to work anymore. "

Shouldn't it be "the fool from his stupor, and he scuttles to safety." ?

The last two lines are a nice end to this. Except for the part mentioned, the poem was clear, and I could see in my minds eye what you were describing.


Dale