2003/disaster

Wednesday is disaster day
in Del Dios.
Last week a woman backed
into the ditch by our house.
Her right rear wheel
on the last inch of dirt
before the plummet,
far enough to be frightening
if you went down.
Far enough to do
damage.

She sat with her foot on the brake
afraid to move,
I put bricks behind her wheels
and handed her cold water,
unable to talk her into getting out.
The police did not know
what the word swail meant,
so I said ditch, trying
to convince them it mattered,
that they really should come.

I am cautious to a fault
leaving the driveway.
He gets impatient that
I don’t back up far enough,
but I’ve never gone into
the swale.

Finally, the tow truck comes
and in a minute all the drama is over.
The driver opens the door and gets out,
her left leg trembling.

Today is Wednesday again.
Rounding the corner on my way home
there are fire trucks and policemen,
I cannot tell why until
the cars in front of me move,
like playing follow-the-leader
as a child.
When they are gone I see
the electrical wires dangling
down to the street right
in front of me.
I back up and swerve around them,
wondering exactly what
they could have done,
what it is about Wednesdays.

7/30/03