So We Lived to Tell the Tale

I can still see the other car
crossing the center line,
the woman’s startled look,
your fast pull on the wheel,
the Beetle spinning quick
and easy as Tilt-O-Whirl,
the retrograde waltz
of trees, the sudden
coming to rest.

Most of all, I remember
one dozen glazed donuts
floating like space stations
as we fell to Earth, a lucky
landing in thick brush
that spared us from
rolling to the bottom.

My dad’s gonna kill me,
you said, but of course
he did not, so we lived
to tell the tale of the
Krispy Kreme Krash.

*     *     *     *     *

I am posting this award (Thank you Michele Spector because it is pretty.

About Ray Sharp

Poet, endurance athlete, retired public health planner
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5 Responses to So We Lived to Tell the Tale

  1. I remember the woman’s face. And of course the donuts. I also remember hitting the blunt end of the guardrail head-on and bashing my head into the windshield. I get an aching reminder of that every day, right below my left shoulder blade. I also remember seeing the totaled car in the field in back of Freibert’s Garage with the setting sun glinting off the spiderweb of shattered glass.

    Turns out my Dad had the brakes tightened the day before, so when I slammed the pedal down, expecting just to slow down, instead the wheels locked-up and we skidded off the road. I think that’s why he didn’t even get mad that the car was totaled. That and the fact that we both survived.

    • Ray Sharp says:

      It was a tragedy narrowly averted, as Bobby said of The Monkey and the Engineer. This poem does not do it justice, the way it played out in my mind. I went for a light mood, but what I really remember is something more akin to beauty, that moment of clarity when time, if not standing still, definitely slowed down, and the trees swept by from left to right as we spun in the opposite direction from how I expected, caroming as we did off the back side of the guard rail. Your seat came off its mooring and you ended up behind me. It is astonishing how fragile this mortal life is, how susceptible to spinning out of control in the next instant.

  2. Lucky you weren’t hurt! I love how you put it all together in a poem. Fast paced and scary set up with the donuts!

  3. Pingback: Promising Poet Award! « Art is My Religion

  4. Jingle says:

    happy Friday!
    Nice to see u accept the award.

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