Footpath frozen

Open - windowed

Let the cold wind in

On this concrete evening.

 

Brightest shadow

Light revealing

Glint of glass on frost.

Road made of thunder.

 

Distant driver

Quiet and tired

Approaching quickly

Ten seconds from terror.

 

Awkward stumble

Car rotating

Spinning confusion

knowledge of injury

 

A tree receives

In wide - spined glee

A man in the air

From through the front windscreen.

 

Face first impact

The rest follow

Crashes forwardly

Body now on the curb.

 

Stream of rose red

Liquid leaking

Pours on path like paint

In perfect profusion.

 

Silent again

On Tonight's street

Smell of fate and smoke

I close the window shut.