Shelby Dale DeWeese- A Poem

TO THE BONFIRE

Sixteen –

invincible,

infinite.

Blazing down

Brainerd Road

in my black Ford F-150,

Thomas Walters by my side

and a bonfire

on the horizon.

Tout de suite

everything shrieked

the other truck

wasn’t stopping

and all I could see

was red.

Red –

brakelights

stoplights

and blurred vision.

Mind and wheel

reeling,

skidding into

oncoming traffic.

After,

both trucks steaming

in the middle of the

intersection outside the

AutoZone.

Tears burning,

consolation streaming

from the passenger seat -

“Not your fault,

it’ll be okay.”

But there’s a strange face and I’m rolling down the window

and her words tell me it won’t be okay.

“My three sons

were in the car.”