Rite of Passage: 1960
by Vincent Canizaro Jr.

our street glistened
that december,
I watched the rain
reflect its colored lights

green, yellow, red

at the intersection
people with umbrellas
gathered around a white ambulance;
two strangers on the pavement,
a too new motorcycle
ticking on the ground

mother said, "don't look,"
but I did

through the rear window
the scene grew smaller,
less frightening
against the tinseled sky

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