The current cautiously carries me
between canyons frosted with crystals
incessantly sparkling under the sun.

It's blinding, this ravine.
The owls hovering about me
hoot hoot hoot their pleasant accord.

The stream takes a turn
and becomes pavement.
The canyons become metal poles
and the crystals convert to street lights.

The front tire hits the curb
and the sirens' sound
violently throws me behind a steering wheel.

The owls transform into vultures.