An Image

The motorbike passenger
Holds an open parasol
While the roadwork holds things up.

It’s enough of an image—
White parasol, black leathers,
Chrome-heavy, polished Harley,

The long line of vehicles
In the flawless desert sun
While someone holds the signal

That says STOP and will say SLOW—
That it sticks in your spare thoughts
As you drive on, opposite,

And you wish there were something
You could do to render it
As a meaningful image,

Something that would say something
Viewers found significant,
Not merely striking. The poem,

Whatever happened to it?
When she closed that parasol,
Was she relieved she’d brought it?