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Zorlone - Filipino Poet and Writer

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Three hours



Inching my way through dreaded traffic,
on a Sunday night, weary and rain-sick.

Rain fell like lemon drops on my windshield,
smearing the transparent glass with a taste - sour-filled.


The lively sounds on the careless radio,
contradicted the atmosphere's depot.

Wild horns of angry cars prepared to fight,
while my mind was preoccupied with the urge to go home tonight.


The procession of commuters simply continued
as the cars behind me deliberately counter-flowed.

The volume of vehicles spilled over,
while water spew out of manholes' fervor.


The slow crawl of unhappy crowd ceased intently,
flying past the remnants of the flooded streets hungrily.

A sigh of relief brought home, yet less vigor,
this tired and worn out lonesome driver.

Picture courtesy of Zorlone while driving last Sunday night

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