Riding Shotgun
Speeding down the highway
I lament my life so far
and meanwhile Death is gleeful,
riding shotgun in my car.
So I crank up the volume,
speakers thrumming bass guitar,
but Death just seems to dig it,
riding shotgun in my car.
One child is an addict
and the other lives too far,
as Death adjusts the seat-back,
riding shotgun in my car.
My husband's soul is breaking
while his son's a big rock star,
and now Death is laughing,
riding shotgun in my car.
As I mourn my unborn grand-kids
his smile becomes bizarre,
for this is Death beside me,
riding shotgun in my car.
Crashing at 190 sure would
leave a massive scar,
and meanwhile death is grinning,
riding shotgun in my car.
©Danielle White
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