040310z3 Let The Traffic Die Down Poem by Manonton Dalan

i grab my bag
with contemp
but i let it loose
and walk away
with my strawberry
my fruit of the day

parking lot is now dark
remembering where i park
third row from an oak tree
old beater and fading gray
two flashes of light and click
it's open; i get in so quick

i called i'm coming home
check traffic on the radio
after minutes i knew
i have to go around
or wait a little bit later
waiting in parking better