The Audible and the Evident. Julie Hanson

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       They Are Widening the Road

      The pipes have been revealed, enormous,

      that lurked all along underground.

      The clay-colored dirt is piled. Barriers

      are fortified by barrels, hurdles, stakes.

      Here’s the backhoe making three-point

      turns, the traffic at a halt. The heat.

      The sun that bakes the dust. The sun

      through glass that magnifies the heat.

      Too near to every business here, and house,

      a mile of road has moved from plan

      to controversy to regret. Several

      of the orange cones, disturbed,

      have tumbled into rolling hazards.

      Here is the church, the hardware store,

      the auto supply, the bank, the gallery,

      the pharmacy, the school. Here is the other

      auto supply. Here is the world

      with its six billion people, with its

      how many random cancellations

      of the single will, hopeful, defeated,

      locked once to another—rhythm, scent

      and curvature—in the ancient act

      of increase, not thought of in these terms,

      but felt: a direction that was sure.

      Detained, detoured, deferred.

      The personal is different than the whole.

      We are directed into other lanes.

      Does anybody out there feel

      that the issue of fairness has been given,

      all too often, a disproportionate attention?

      It takes but gentle mention and the matter’s

      tabled yet again. With us

      or without us, an agenda slips along

      like mercury through tubes of glass.

      The line is longer and the great big sound

      from close behind is right inside our car.

      There is no moving up in line

      and the pavement of the lane ahead is ripped.

       Pilot car

       Follow me