Beyond the median, a crumpled frame,
Police lights, acrid smoke. So now it’s clear
Why two miles back the interstate became
A shuffling carpet queued for a premiere.
I try to keep my gaze ahead; with luck,
Delays like this will soon be obsolete,
When cruise control ensures each car and truck
Can keep its steady progress down the street,
Immune to horror’s all-too-human hold
On those who cannot help but slow and see;
Creating distance, comforting and cold,
From the appalling possibility
That vehicles on both sides of the line
Contain, in fragile flesh, lives just like mine.
by Coleman Glenn
Editor’s Note: This sonnet captures the moment of realization where mortality and curiosity mingle together uncomfortably.
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