Behind the wheel, the salt truck driver
gives what he has to offer the world
at his own steady pace, able from long practice
to ignore the parade in his wake.
Next the cautious Plymouth
driver hunched towards the dashboard
whispering songs with only two notes—
Then me, caught between caution
and the Lexus behind me,
who is certain he isn’t built to wait.
Flooring it by the bright yellow lines
he gleams, so full of righteousness
that even the deer by the side of the road
raise their heads to watch him pass.