The Wreck

Twisting, spinning, upside down Scraping, sliding sideways, air bags deployed Blackness, calm, conscious, seat belt bound visions flashing through his brain Does not know who, someone has bled Dash lights blurry, silence "Megan, Megan!" "Oh, my God, my daughter" “Forceps..Clamp...watch the heart beat.” “Doctor we’re losing him, No, he’s back” “Dad, you’re hurt!!!” “Hush sweet, I have to hurry Your seat belt jammed, My knife, I’ll cut it, you crawl away. Call help on the Cell phone.... Must lie down” “I don’t like those spikes, more oxygen, mo...” “It’s no use doctor”, as the line went flat. “I know. I must tell my wife her father died”. Jul 03 2010 For Joe’s “poem that does not rhyme” contest