Poetry Wednesday 20 Aug 2014
TOO LATE
The screech of car tires
quick turn of wheel
still hitting a little form
that broke upon the steel
and lay in a small bundle
staining the road red ...
"I sa..sa..saw her too late,"
was all the drunk driver said.
Another drink for the road
was too many that day
a small precious child
would never again play;
for the parents - no answers
only these words instead ...
"I sa..sa..saw her too late,"
was all the drunk driver said.
By: Dale Sahlberg
Poetry: http://www.ecsahlberg.com/Poetry.html
For visually impaired: http://www.ecsahlberg.com/Epoems.html
Novel: http://www.ecsahlberg.com/myIrin.html
The screech of car tires
quick turn of wheel
still hitting a little form
that broke upon the steel
and lay in a small bundle
staining the road red ...
"I sa..sa..saw her too late,"
was all the drunk driver said.
Another drink for the road
was too many that day
a small precious child
would never again play;
for the parents - no answers
only these words instead ...
"I sa..sa..saw her too late,"
was all the drunk driver said.
By: Dale Sahlberg
Poetry: http://www.ecsahlberg.com/Poetry.html
For visually impaired: http://www.ecsahlberg.com/Epoems.html
Novel: http://www.ecsahlberg.com/myIrin.html
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