(Prompt 13 in We Drink Because We’re Poets)
The 13-car accident piles up on the highway.
– Steel, plastic, aluminum debris
Fragments of us –
In the distance the sirens whimper
And the soft moan within reminds me of your absence.
A paramedic nods in disbelief.
I seek answers in the eyes of a picture.
My truth spills over the asphalt.
On the other side of the highway
Your truth lies unknown, tangled under the city turmoil.
Disoriented as I move down one-way streets.
Words trickle down water in the city fountain –
Some spoken; others left unsaid
As the agony of shadows from tattered buildings.
Hands folded together
I walk speechless
Down dark city alleys.
The ache from an old longing in the heart.
The city ignores shattered dreams
As a homeless man sleeps on a bench
Concealed under the veil of night.
Faint stars and empty parking lots
Accompany a man under a cloak
Walking home from the third shift –
Every step laden with the day’s sorrows.
My hands unfold scars of the heart.
Thoughts of you linger.
The moon wanes behind tall buildings.
And a new day opens.