Like many others, I had different plans for the month of April, but life being what it is… I’m a little behind on celebrating National Poetry Month like I had intended, so here is one of my favorites from my chapbook, There I am in Pieces Again, available everywhere in e-book and paperback. Links below. The audio reading is at the end of the poem.
The Song I Heard Before I Crashed
On the road of life
I have traveled far—
the cliché of my existence.
Some roads were smooth
cruising along, top down, hair blowing wild and free.
I was me, who I am, who I was, who I knew and loved.
Potholes shook me
icy roads sent me sliding
rain had me pulled over, seeking shelter from the downpour in an abandoned carwash.
There I was, still me, still who I am, who I was, what I knew.
But the music played – it always played.
I never used my signal because
I didn’t know I was turning
didn’t put my foot on the brake because
I wasn’t trying to stop.
I forgot to enjoy the view because
I didn’t know I’d never see it again
see me, who I was, who I was, who I was, who I was.
But the music played – it always played.
Maybe I glanced away
or lost track of time, of life, of me
or maybe I fell asleep in the passenger side.
I never meant to let go of the wheel, to give up the keys, to let someone else drive.
But the music played – it always played
a song of who I was, who I was, who I was
who?
Right before impact
sounds of mellow, sounds of smooth and calm, never warned me of what was to come.
The melody never said, “Wake up!”
The notes never cried out to stop.
I never knew I’d be on this road.
How did I even get here?
A bird sang out high above the doom.
My heart cried out
where am I, where am I, where am I?
And the music stopped – it never stopped.
