Slow Down by John Grey


Slow down.

The turn is blind.

There’s train tracks.
A pedestrian crossing.

And a church to the right.
Three houses to the left.
Children waiting for the bus.
A woman pushing a grocery cart
along the sidewalk.

And there’s a man
sitting in a stone fence
who’s just been informed
he’s cancer free.

And a young woman
in her front yard
who expects her man home
any minute now.

An old woman has a lot to live for.
A vinyl siding installer
is looking forward to his next vacation.
A baby in a stroller
is new to the world
but what she’s experienced so far
has all been good.

With one foot on an accelerator,
you could interfere in people’s lives
in the last way they would have wanted.

Slow down
and you’re through this stretch of road,
unharmed and harming no one.

No one will even know you exist.
On these turns,
you cannot wish for more.

©2020 John Grey


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John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in Transcend, Dalhousie Review and Qwerty with work upcoming in Blueline, Hawaii Pacific Review and Clade Song.


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