Minute Connections

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Was sat in traffic today,
serious collision that probably changed someone’s life.
Imagine thinking you are off to work,
and then it all changes with a touch of metal
brushing against your future.

I sat still in my own vehicle,
six hundred metres from all out panic
and worry, thinking about my own world.
Not nearly as big or important as all the changes
occurring in front of me.

We have been stationary for over two hours,
a small price to pay compared to those
whose lives are irrevocably changed.

A man, with beard bushy and eyebrows snaking
up into the sky, exits his car to stretch a worn leg.
He pulls a bottle of water and swigs,
his gaze circles with his stance.

To his right, a woman on a phone, dressed
in important looking suits, has just hung up and
leant in sadness against the reddened frame.

My windows are shut,
and the silence is mine,
but their lips move as they catch eyes.

A small chat, a little laugh and a shared lament,
a small interaction of folks who’s lives will only ever
interact today at this point in time.

Maybe in another life they could have been friends,
best friends, more?
What would it have taken to shift their timelines
from criss cross to joined parallelism?