our street glistened
that december,
I watched the rain
reflect its colored lights
green, yellow, red
at the intersection
people with umbrellas
gathered around a white ambulance;
two strangers on the pavement,
a too new motorcycle
ticking on the ground
mother said, "don't look,"
but I did
through the rear window
the scene grew smaller,
less frightening
against the tinseled sky
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