Light

LightThe tiny car twirled once,
Then crumpled against the concrete barrier,
Inside it, light died down,
Alone,

Invisible raindrops,
Given instant recognition by passing headlights,
Washed the smoking wreckage,
Off its final sin.

Futures, plans,
And a world full of hopes,
Vanished in an instant,
For all of tomorrows.

Slumped in his seat,
Sat the life student,
An elusive lover,
A free bird.

The saturated earth accepted into her,
The body of a son,
His talents, imagination, and promises,
And the life that was.

The world spun on,
Weaving cobwebs of pain and loss,
And a love cut short,
Yearning a lifetime for completion.

 

November 30, 2016

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