Suburban Beach

Waiting for the bus
everything is sound
although no one talks.
Cars make waves with wheels —
softly shushing sounds
rising & falling,
attack & decay
patterns overlap
with staggered distance
between autos,
cresting & ebbing
in shifting rhythms
if they approach from
the left or the right;
shifts in tone depend
on the vehicle —
size, wheel base, tire threads.
A quarter ton truck
wheezes & rattles
faintly, embarrassed
by its lone loose screw.
The woman by me
turns her book’s pages
with thick fingered gloves.
To the other side
a man’s wary eyes
flicker & dart, while
a redwinged blackbird
complains of the cold.

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