The Box
If you run over a cat, dog, or
a child
sorrow cannot say sorry,
it is not like bumping into a stranger
with a polite excuse-me smile, no -
if a life ends under you
you can only scream into a box,
a heavy box you send to yourself –
maybe you’ll replay the scream later,
then later still.
Maybe you will carry that box around awkwardly
tucked under one arm while you drive on,
only now
with just one hand on the wheel.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2022
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