Bucked on her own bicycle
through Central Park in the rain. Blue
Man Group was still blue
babies recovering from that original choke
without tubes. Never knowing
the price of gas anywhere. She could no more
identify the car you drive than you could
label her a type of flower that grows through cracks
in the sidewalk. Could be any day—she chooses
to call this one her station.
Night & Day Poems of Amy Nash 
Yes, everyday is earth day when you don’t own a car. Do you think she’ll spare us when she shakes off this viral species?
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Hmm… I fear we may be guilty by association. But in the final judgment day, we can have a clearer conscience as the hurricane, tornado, tsunami, locusts wipe us out.
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