The Ones Left Behind

a lone sunflower seems so strange at midnight, at the roadside

whilst cigarette smoke slips out 

the crack in the window

away from me

tap dancing with a limp

brake for the passing cars

that hasten the deluge with a hiss

winning the tug of war 

with a cancerous daisy chain

I still like to play though

but cursing the cars 

and closing the window

suffocates stifles and sickens

in its choking isolation

so I unwind it, myself

succumb to the cars

feel the daisies ripped from my hand

and think of the sunflower

I let pass on the road