One day, carefree
testing boundaries
the next, mutilated
splattered on the side of the road.
Two friends killed instantly
Ziffel 18.
and Gary 19.
Out driving and partying
the four of them
in the back seat, Ed
escaped with a broken arm
and Woody
with hardly a scratch.
I was 15
it was May
still signing my own excuses
when I got the phone call.
They’re dead!
Hit Head On
their VW bug
squashed
by a drunken black caddy.
Time blurred
spiraled and
in due course
crystallized while
hitchhiking on the interstate
600 miles away from home.
It will be alright
in the morning
whispered
in my ear and
became my mantra
on the eve
of my detention.
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