Gyroscope Review 16-4 - Page 58

TO THE WOMAN TAKING A HIGHWAY SOBRIETY TEST BY ADEN THOMAS I judge you. I condemn you under my breath. I laugh while you stumble to walk a straight line, recite the alphabet backward, touch your finger to your nose. How deaf from alcohol you must have been to drive the length of this two lane highway where sagebrush is all we can believe. Intoxication never imagined you, your insect frame, your hair like elderberries. Cars slow to pass the siren lights. Your face is the color of the wind. I think of the sorrow that caused your flight and the creatures you thought you were leaving to find humanity out here with sparrows weighting power lines. They watch you stand and let your head back, your eyes closed, your arms outstretched until the world spins and crashes down. Gyroscope Review 16-4 Page 4! 8