Like a Comet

Like a Comet

He races against the traffic of time,
pushing past barricades that strive
to slow his frantic rush through
life's red lights. He runs when signs
say walk and dashes up dead-end alleys,
searching the sweet scents that aim his journey.

Once, he followed a narrow arrow
and found himself squeezed
into a line-up of bowed heads waiting
for the slick blade of death's descent
to separate them from their thoughts.
He watched their patient resignation,
then broke ranks to repair the scorch
of his singed psyche.

You will not see his gauze-covered burns.
He changes the dressings at night
when the lights are out, revealing only
a few smoking embers drifting to earth
as he arcs across the sky in an incandescent
flash, defying gravity until he burns out.