Between

The fluorescent orange

signals the importance of

preservation. The wine in

the bottle protected from vicious

bacteria that dart through the air

around burgundy liquid it desperately wants.

Though apart from its glass bottle,

the stopper looks like

stacked traffic cones,

stoic against the elements to

preserve the precious humans that fly

down the barren blacktop.

If you’re driving at night, sometimes

the only thing that keeps you from

tumbling into the woods is the

reflective marigold and white, and

the statues lined up, watching.

For a moment, I am lost in the black void.

Ten yards ahead, the curb

has been eaten away. Suddenly,

a fluorescent flash calls to me, pulls

me out of the bleak monotony,

steers me away from unseen dangers.

My eyes drag across the ravine’s

sharp stones, to broken limbs lying in its depths;

the gorge waiting for the moment where

carelessness wins the battle between life

and death. Death would have won,

if not for the orange gatekeeper, the protector

against unseen danger.