By the side of highways
with precisely engineered curves
stand white crosses
like cemeteries
are cemeteries
no bodies are buried here
however death is surely present
in the night
out of the dark
lights flashing
blue, red, and white
sizzling flares
slow down
a wave on through
carefully passing other’s passing
shining wrecks, tangled metal
the air is thick with
alcohol fumed curses
a child’s cry
a last breath expelled
unhh!
The crosses are always white
sometimes flowered
real flowers at first
then plastic (they last longer)
on a lonely desert highway
the crosses are enshrined
grottoes of stone (they last longer)
but here on this spot
a white cross with
red plastic carnations
forming letters
a “D”, an “A” and a “D”
Very touching, Brian. "Descansos" tug the heart. --Barbara
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