Highway Markers

While driving down the road, I spy the markers; some flowers, some crosses, going by one by one, never a thought; whose’s represented, mother, father, daughter or son; driving down the road, as the markers are passed one by one, my mind; maybe focused on my job, or some future evening's fun; driving down the road, as the markers are passed one by one, never noticing how some are fresh, decayed, dead, done; as you drive down the road, see my marker, placed for me, by my mother; for a drunk driver struck me from behind, smashed me into the tree, left little to find; so as you drive down the road, pay respect; to the markers, and the stories that are told…