10 90

it was a stare that I collected when I looked over seeking the
reason for slowing traffic, empty.

there, just there, like a bundle of clothes lost off the back of a truck,
still held together by the body that once wore them,

a stoic, passing glance from the pleasant face
of a mangled corpse. He stares even now.

a face, friendly, almond hued and unstained
with eyes open wide, set straight ahead, sharing nothing.

a body, clothed in blue, somewhat rearranged and half-severed
with a leg stretched forward near the face, unnaturally.

my thoughts quickly sought a more civilized and less gruesome explanation
but none was found, not in the street, not in the stopped, locked up cars.

the uninvited realization was forced down and absorbed
into the darker tissues and sinews of my soul.

I drove on, quiet, aware of the growing distance between us