Another Read Write Poem prompt. Each column makes a separate poem, then the two columns together make a poem.
a glass building near the highway toll booth
at the edge of town blazes, begins a daily ritual
glints sun from its windows, so the line of cars slows,
becomes a rippling column creeping forward
bathed in brilliant glare as people fumble for change
gathered up from cup holders
and held in relief then over into the till while
against blue sky — those waiting raise one finger
Excalibur on a fist of rage.