Idling

My stereo blares panicked dissonance of geese, chickens, and muffled wind.

I stare ahead, immersed.

To my right peripheral, an idling truck transports a family; the mother smokes.
They look to my van, to each other. They laugh.  A new animal voice arpeggiates on my stereo.

I want to laugh.
The family knows what panic is, but they
don’t understand it.
They know what survival is, but they
don’t understand it.
I understand that family – these abstractions.
Taming my own judgements out of necessity,
I inch forward on green
And reflect about the recording
Of a lamb slaughter
In quiet acceleration.