Enter Home Planet News Poetry of Issue #6                         Page 10
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The pickup roars its engine
as it tailgates behind my car,
headlights squint below
my trunk lid like a bull’s eyes,
a bull’s head ducked, tucked
for the charge to gore
this nuisance out of its way.

The pickup turns the corner,
but another moves into line
like a race horse settling
into the gate, quivering
for the slam open to stampede
down the track to the finish line.

My car turns into the parking lot
where an SUV squeals a curve
into a vacant space;
a sibling brother piglet shoving
the runt away from the sow,
but I didn’t want to park there anyway.

Streetlight clicks off for the day.

  Diane Webster