Feb 2019
It was about a quarter to dawn.
A thin slice of moon still hung in the sky.
Another day, another battle.
It seems to be a constant struggle.
A thin line of red marked his chin.
A piece of tissue stuck on the stubble,
like a white flag of surrender.
Give up, some times you just can’t win.
Eggs, coffee, bagel toasted light.
He gets a kiss on the way out.
Enjoy your day, she says, I’ll see you tonight.
Up in the next town
the driver starts the mighty diesel,
his load ready for a long trip.
The roar of the engine
takes him on to the highway,
merging with other nameless faces,
aglow by the dim light of their phones,
heading off into oblivion and other places.
It starts to snow, a spec at first.
Then lit by his headlights, it appears
like heavy drops of white lace.
Hypnotic as it falls lightly then with force, strong.
The sun breaking through a ribbon of blue black clouds.
A crack of yellow white stabs the lingering night. Dawn.
10 miles in, he rubs the red line on his chin.
Radio's up, talk is cheap, he likes the light banter.
Thankfully traffic's light, it's Wednesday
in the middle of nowhere.
Meetings scheduled, a full day's agenda.
He barely saw the deer as it flew over his fender.
From the opposite direction
the trucker bore down, intent on his load.
The fog on his windshield grudgingly offered a view
of the snow coated, still dark road.
With a maddening squeal, the air brakes caught hold.
The trailer sashayed like a dreamy teenaged girl
dancing to a slow country song.
Sliding ever faster, moving along
the ice unforgiving in that bitter cold.
Closer to the middle and then into the oncoming lane,
the talk show host continued his political refrains.
The two collided like fate had planned
from the very moment that time began.
The meetings would be cancelled, the future unsure.
They would both survive, the semi driver and he,
with the cut on his chin forgotten, the past now a blur.
Live for the moment they say, love for eternity.
Plan for regrets, for there’s no assurance, no certainty.
Your day may not end as you would have planned,
for we are all surely in God's hands.
A thin slice of moon still hung in the sky.
Another day, another battle.
It seems to be a constant struggle.
A thin line of red marked his chin.
A piece of tissue stuck on the stubble,
like a white flag of surrender.
Give up, some times you just can’t win.
Eggs, coffee, bagel toasted light.
He gets a kiss on the way out.
Enjoy your day, she says, I’ll see you tonight.
Up in the next town
the driver starts the mighty diesel,
his load ready for a long trip.
The roar of the engine
takes him on to the highway,
merging with other nameless faces,
aglow by the dim light of their phones,
heading off into oblivion and other places.
It starts to snow, a spec at first.
Then lit by his headlights, it appears
like heavy drops of white lace.
Hypnotic as it falls lightly then with force, strong.
The sun breaking through a ribbon of blue black clouds.
A crack of yellow white stabs the lingering night. Dawn.
10 miles in, he rubs the red line on his chin.
Radio's up, talk is cheap, he likes the light banter.
Thankfully traffic's light, it's Wednesday
in the middle of nowhere.
Meetings scheduled, a full day's agenda.
He barely saw the deer as it flew over his fender.
From the opposite direction
the trucker bore down, intent on his load.
The fog on his windshield grudgingly offered a view
of the snow coated, still dark road.
With a maddening squeal, the air brakes caught hold.
The trailer sashayed like a dreamy teenaged girl
dancing to a slow country song.
Sliding ever faster, moving along
the ice unforgiving in that bitter cold.
Closer to the middle and then into the oncoming lane,
the talk show host continued his political refrains.
The two collided like fate had planned
from the very moment that time began.
The meetings would be cancelled, the future unsure.
They would both survive, the semi driver and he,
with the cut on his chin forgotten, the past now a blur.
Live for the moment they say, love for eternity.
Plan for regrets, for there’s no assurance, no certainty.
Your day may not end as you would have planned,
for we are all surely in God's hands.
