Bin men will wave

if you wave first
they might honk their horn
to keep a passion of yours
alive. Like a tree, you stand
still by the road captured in a moment
you’ve only seen in books
or on that YouTube compilation
we somehow found one day
when your teeth needed to get out
of your skull. The traffic lights
go green and the truck leaves
followed by a bus
you didn’t realised was there,
then your eyes; two engines
desperate to roar.

© Carl Burkitt 2022

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