(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.


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