Cupboard Like A Flat Bed

Parked there so casually,
the ruby red sentinel rests
while one block over, the plaza 
swims with fiesta, strollers mouth 
hungry fists of flat, bready tacos 
heaped with salsa. We mark the 
incoming season with dogs tugging 
on leashes in front of the Five and Dime.
Fidgety children in strollers point 
toward the mountains resembling 
old pewter fences. Vendors yawn, 
anticipating light rain as the driver 
with one hand idling on the steering wheel 
counts insomniac ghosts at the four way 
stop. A hint of whiskey in her throat.
She adjusts the rear view mirror, and 
moves the dial seeking softer music.
Trees silver to yellow up ahead.