Why I Love I-4 Traffic

And I thank the stars and the moon

And, most of all,

The traffic gods

Who blessed me

With a child,

Who, chatting with a friend,

A young man, newly married,

But on his own,

single for the weekend,

chatting,

“Oh we haven’t had a girls night out

Since 

The 

Wedding!”

Chatting on phones

Filled with films

And distractions

And traffic reports

From WESH drones

Decide

That they’re too mature

To fight the crowds

On Saturday night

When there is server life

and real estate deals

And anyway

There is no after party, either.

Waking,

I see the headlines

See her car out front

Text the young ones

And go to the new technology of

“Safe Check In.”

My son is there,

With a rainbow flag and a black ribbon

across his beloved face.

I breathe.

I breathe,

Grateful that poor planning

And construction and the curse

Of turnpike traffic crawls

And I-4 gridlock

Gave me more time to love my children.

I bring cases of water to the line at

The Big Red Bus.

I cannot donate.

It is too soon since my last donation.

It is too soon.

I climb the stairs,

Kiss her sleeping shoulder

Remembering the Towers,

Fallen icons of our other home

And light a candle

For the fathers

Who dread the phone that will not ring

this Father's Day,

The phone that will never ring again.