Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2020
Gravity died,
Or so it seemed to us, who were to die,
All loose objects vortical,
Yet static,
                 car spinning,
side over side, the policeman said,
No one could've survived,
Radial blur
All in the rearview
Thud of impact, Thud of stillness
No screams till the spinning wheel ceased
and then only one,
                                 melting like snow upon asphalt.
Norman Crane
Written by
Norman Crane  Canada
(Canada)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems