Police, Fire, Ambulance

all at the corner of 15th and Broadway
lights on, no sirens. The guy getting onto the bus
says there’s some lady in the ambulance—
points to a silver car. That’s all I’ll ever know
unless I comb the evening news for mention
that may not even be there. Who was she,
who made the call, what was the cause?

The bus rolls on and leaves the red-and-whites
flashing in the driver’s rear-view. Buses don’t have
back windows. I can’t see the mirror
from where I sit. Whatever happened
is over as far as I’m concerned. Though not for her
or her friends, family, passers-by who saw
whatever they saw.

The driver shakes his head,
peering into the side mirror.
There’s no sound of sirens. We sit
in silent rows of unknowing.

Available! High-Voltage Lines, Knocking from Inside