Racing down Madison Avenue against traffic
was never how I expected to crash into him.

He draped his arms around the wreckage, holding it tightly;
everything was piled against the tree -broken pieces scattered;
eyes black as oil stained his white T-shirt,
gasping, crying, inaudible speech.

The gas ran empty and the windows fogged,
everything fell to the floor, fell apart,
broke down - and then it was fixed.

by the simple putting together of a mechanic?

I crashed into myself,
by the dictionary definition of violently colliding;
fell apart.

but, when I crashed into him,
everything fell together.

N.R