I Thought This Would Never Happen Again


Driving along on this miserable evening
The road meets the sky in a blanket of rain,
Pass mile marker 105 and get in the left lane.
The paint on one-oh-five-and-two-tenths is fading
And a towering pine shakes the sky near the bend.
Wake up to the impact of metal on metal;
Wake up to an airbag and mangled car frame:
The sign and the pine both sharp figmentation,
A wild dervish dance of happenstance imagination.
Wake up to a flood of deep muddying shame.

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Because Russ L asked

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