Taxi Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Taxi

He, not I
A young man; pedestrian,
Raised his middle finger to taxi
That was in line behind a car after me
And honked, and honked loud…questioning:
"Why waiting and not moving? "

He, the taxi driver
Saw his side of the story, only
Selfish, careless, set for money grabbing.

I
This time I
As I
Saw the light:
"Pedestrian's right of way."

This is why passengers seek alternative:
"Anything but the ignorant taxi…"