Driving home
from the hospital,
bullied by fierce winds
on a snow-packed road,
I dream as I drive.
I envision a past
that never was,
a future that may never be.
I hibernate in my memories,
last summer’s flowers
flourishing in my mind.
The car skids into a snow bank.
My world shakes in shock.
A thirty wheeler rumbles by:
there are so many ways to die.
Have you ever driven somewhere and upon arriving, realize you can’t remember the trip? Scary. But it happens when we are under a great deal of stress. I can place myself in your scene.
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All too often, especially during the sequence I went through that winter. Simply ‘orrible.
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I can imagine…
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Very visual Roger… indeed there are so many ways to die.
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Big trucks on an icy road: not the way one would choose, I suspect.
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No probably not, though no way is a good way, it is a matter of lesser evils.
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Always choose the lesser of two weevils.
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Haha
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I like this, Roger. It is sharp and vivid.
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It was sharp and vivid. I’ll never forget that snowbank … or the truck!
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Such great pictures in your poems!!
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Thank you: this was a very special one. More to follow on this theme.
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Was she in the hospital at that time?
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No: I was going in and out for diagnostics. They were poking and prodding me.
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Kind of unsettling!
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That’s why I ended up in the snowbank … my mind was elsewhere … and driving conditions weren’t great …
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Thank You!
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