Modes of Transit

// Jamie Thomson

I stopped and sat down
in the middle of the street I
refused to move I was convinced
of the location’s immense mystical significance

People in cars honked their horns
and wept A bird said to another bird
O to have wings! as they both took flight

Babies by the thousands were crawling
out of nurseries and making for the hills

Rain had been predicted and finally the clouds
were making their true intentions clear

A crane commissioned by the local business bureau
reached down and plucked me up

It dropped me off in a field near Ohio