SIXTEEN
from the vantage of the frontage road,
the thought of merging all alone
onto a freeway of frenzied cars
seems a death trap to the sweet
sixteen Cinderella, fresh license
in her purse, finally headed
to the ball, first time driving solo.
not until she floors the pedal
of her Honda Civic pumpkin
up the on-ramp (amped on adrenaline)
will the impossible breakneck stream
of quicker cars slow-motion down
to fold her into the traffic zipper
as gently as a prince might attempt
to fit her foot with her own glass slipper.