The Tree
At 50 miles the tree approached
My foot stomped on the brake
We hurtled through the sunlit air
And curled up like a snake.
Around it spun, my silver bird
I had not made the curve
I felt the car turn upside down
And land upon the ground
Hearing voices screaming
Blurring faces coming closer
But yet too far away
Hearing the sound of my heartbeat
As my feet reach the ground
Home free, I thought but maybe not
The car begins to move
It stops, thank God I just might live.
To see another day
Copyright © Misty Thomason | Year Posted 2007
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