The Duel

We were at a vague intersection,
Where there were no rules only
Customs and accepted behaviors,
Laws etched in silence.

In silence we stood looking
At each other
Facing off across an empty street
Wondering, who would go first?

Who would go first and
Take the road
Seize the asphalt and grind
Prints into its black crystals?

Into its black crystals I went
Timidly,
Trembling before a silver grill
That smiled in anticipation of my steps.

In anticipation of my steps,
The carriage lurched forward
But stopped, unsure if there
Was a sign which I saw and it was blind to.

It was blind to nothing,
There was no sign, only
An understanding that those
Traveling on foot would rule.

Those traveling on foot should have ruled,
The street was ours to take
But we had to take it
No sign would give it to me.

No sign would give it to me,
I did make tracks on my own,
The machine smiled with tin teeth
Understanding how fragile the habits were

The habits of the intersection were
Trampled under the treads of the
Carriage which held a man prisoner,
In yellow chains.

A man, prisoner in yellow chains
Looked at me,
Dragged through the intersection
By a chariot he could start, but not stop.

Not stopping, he conquered the street,
He took it away from me and all
Others traveling by foot, took
It because we were at a vague intersection