Good street corner folks

Good street corner folks
Offering me God's blessing
Sweet Divinity.

This is somewhat connected to a part of a poem that I think is still in the draft stages:

Driving with the Radio

Sometimes when I’m driving with the radio on
it makes me feel like I’m in a movie and this is one of those sequences
where the soundtrack tells the story while we watch the driver
cruse along all by themselves.

And I find myself staring out the window
at some small child playing in their front yard
within her safe and happy universe
or at a man trying to look his best with a knapsack and a sign offering me God’s blessing,
or at a pawn shop, where I know there’s a glass case in the back
separating some young woman from her tiny piece of forever
and I have no idea why she needed the money so badly
or if maybe she just needed to get rid of the damn thing.

Then something brings me back:
the car in front of me brakes or someone honks
and I remember that it’s not safe to stare or to think about those sorts of things
while cruising along at 70 mph in a heap of metal and plastic and glass.

The veil between me and my momentary neighbors falls back into place
and the fiction that I care and can be impacted by these things emotionally
is replaced by the fact of my trying
not to wad my heaping chariot into to the embankment
or turn myself into mince.

I turn off the music and roll down the window.

Sometimes when I’m driving with the window down
It makes me feel like I’m in a movie...