A car crashed into our tree last night, one fatal last mistake.
It was a cooper mini; I never heard the driver brake.
My wife, a nurse, ran to the car, then, sadly, backed away.
“There’s nothing I can do for him. This was his dying day.”
I could see there was a lot of blood; the driver’s chest was crushed.
I got the precinct on my cell. I said-“you need not rush.”
An ambulance came and his corpse was freed;
at the scene  he was pronounced deceased.
I knew he’d had a violent end, but reasoned it was quick at least.
The road was dry and freshly paved and, as per the EMT,
There was no hint of alcohol when they pried him from the tree.

The patrol called for his next of kin, and, as the sun rose in the East,
a woman with her baby came, her face a mask of grief.
Her fiancé was thirty and that night he’d tended bar.
He’d been working lots of overtime to save for their new car.
A baby’s needs are many and often dollars are too few.
I didn’t know how she would cope and somehow make it through
Her face betrayed a fresh concern; I saw her check her phone.
“I had sent my fiancé a text- he was late coming home.”
I knew what time the crash occurred; it had awakened me,
But I was unspecific.” It happened around three.”
She showed me then the text she’d sent that may have caused his end
The time stamped on her text message read “2:31AM”