One unguarded moment
overturned the horse drawn apple cart—
the horse, too.
From the curb, protesters threw
dripping Red Zinger teabags
as if this coordinated act could restore control.
A yellow parking ticket
fluttered against the windshield,
in that leaf-dappled light.
Some of us, here at the edge of the greenway,
aspired to become memes,
viewed by horse loving adolescent girls around the world.
I mean, I did not choose to be away from my lovely Dianne
when this self-destructive sorrow
knocked me on the skids.
copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney