The Open Road

Sometimes a Car Crashes and Nothing Else is Near


Do objects discarded from cars retain
memory of the disgust, the destruction,
the undressing?

A brown boot sits motionless, rests
on one side; a passenger misses
essential footwear.

A wedding ring, faintly glinting;
why would you admit to an affair
whilst driving?

A blue scarf following an unloved
team; a fight breaks out before the
next service station.

The right leg of a plastic doll;
Only a vengeful older brother
would do this.

A pink ribbon, embracing drooping
flowers; a red ribbon, loosely holding
dead flowers.

The rear light of a small family
car flickering through the gap,
a tidy hedge.