Bad wreck on I-65 N.
All lanes closed
for almost two hours,
so far.
Left lane lined with semis,
drone of engines idling.
People out of their cars,
stretching stiff legs,
fooling with cell phones.
Thank god for this cool breeze,
husband’s attempt at cheer
not working.  Trapped,
bored, anxious, pissed.
WAZE warns three more hours
of delay.
My meltdown is imminent.
And some asshole is driving
up the right shoulder.
Going where, Jerk?

The car pulls alongside us.
A blonde-haired angel smiles,
wonders if we are game
to follow her
up the entrance ramp
a few yards ahead,
take parallel back roads
(she’s from around here)
and get back on I-65
right past Columbus (Indiana).
We don’t hesitate
or question why she chose us.
We just latch onto her bumper,
and our good fortune. 
Thank you, whoever you are.