Memento Mori

Dec 27 2015

The car sat,

angled into the ditch

nose buried in snow.

Engine-block cold,

and frozen cabin

under tinted glass

obscuring what, we wondered?

Heads swivelling, eyes rapt

we whispered slowly past

on a fresh white covering,

tires muffled

the heater's steady hum.

Briefly flooded in light

the abandoned car sat lifeless,

as if left for winter

to bury her.

Tons of steel, immobilized,

200 horses

powerless.

Black ice?

A minor distraction?

Some ass-hole, drunk?

But always

there but for the grace of God

go us.

It's as if the adrenaline's still there,

the way ice-mist hovers

in freezing air;

hearts racing

and arms bracing

and time

taking its own.

While on the snowy road

the spinning skid persists;

asphalt, glistening black

slashed in virgin white.

Tomorrow, the sky will clear

the tow truck come,

heavy wheels crunching

back-up beeper thrumming,

a ruddy man, shovelling snow.

Then, the grappling hook will clang

stinking diesel grind

greasy winch whirr.

How quickly it turns,

the warm refuge of the car

to inanimate object.

Its headlights dark

like 2 dead eyes,

its cold steel

a lifeless body

wheeled out-of-sight.

Until ploughed-up snow, and gouged-out ruts

are all that remain.

In the dead of winter;

reminding us

of grace.