photo: ralph murre
Crossing Guard
by
Marilyn Annucci
I
drive toward her—
crossing
guard who scowls into traffic.
So
butch she might have been
an
inventor of steam shovels.
Stop me! I pray. She steps out
Stronger
than Steel.
Kids
in knit hats,
nylon
jackets, straggle before my car.
I
want to rev my engine.
Guardian.
I
want to stall out.
She
eyes me, turns away. Oh
to be crossed! She lowers
the
brim of her cap, waves us on—
us,
not just me. You’re no one
special, her strut says
Heartbreaker.
(Parallel Press)
