THE WRECK ON HIGHWAY 109
by Ruth Gillis
A
drunk man in an Oldsmobile
they said had run the light
that caused the six-car pileup
on 109 that night.
When broken bodies lay about
and blood was everywhere,
the sirens screamed out elegies,
for death was in the air.
A
mother, trapped inside her car,
was heard above the noise;
her plaintive plea near split the air:
“Oh, God, please spare my boys!”
She fought to loose her pinioned hands;
she struggled to get free,
but mangled metal held her fast
in grim captivity.
Her
frightened eyes then focused on
where the back seat once had been,
but all she saw was broken glass
and two children’s seats crushed in.
Her twins were nowhere to be seen;
she did not hear them cry,
and then she prayed, they’d been thrown free,
“Oh, God, don’t let the die!”
Then
firemen came and cut her loose,
but when they searched the back,
they found therein no little boys,
but the seat belts were intact.
They thought the woman had gone mad
and was traveling alone,
but when they turned to question her,
they discovered she was gone.
Policemen
saw her running wild
and screaming above the noise
in beseeching supplication,
“Please help me find my boys!
They’re four years old and wear blue shirts,
their jeans are blue to match.”
One cop spoke up, “They’re in my car,
and they don’t have a scratch.”
They
said their daddy put them there
and gave them each a cone,
then told them both to wait for Mom,
to come and take them home.
I’ve searched the area high and low,
but I can’t find their dad.
He must have fled the scene, I guess,
and that is very bad.”
The
mother hugged the twins and said,
While wiping at a tear,
“He could not flee the scene, you see,
for he’s been dead a year.”
The cop just looked confused and asked,
“Now, how can that be true?”
The boys said, “Mommy, Daddy came
and left a kiss for you.
He
told us not to worry
and that you would be all right,
and then he put us in this car with
The pretty, flashing light.
We wanted him to stay with us,
because we miss him so,
but Mommy, he just hugged, us tight
and said he had to go.
He
said, someday we’d understand
and told us not to fuss,
and he said to tell you, Mommy,
he’s watching over us.”
The mother knew without a doubt
that what they spoke was true,
for she recalled their dad’s last words,
“I will watch over you.”
The
firemen’s notes could not explain
the twisted, mangled car,
and how the three of them escaped
without a single scar.
But on the cop’s report was scribed,
in print so very fine,
an angel walked the beat tonight
on Highway 109.
Author,
Ruth Gillis
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
The
above poem is being used with the Author’s permission,
June 26, 2004.
“The
Wreck On Highway 109” received a First Place Award in
the April 1999 issue of Poet’s Review.
“The
Wreck On Highway 109” – Is copyright protected by Ruth
Gillis
- see Ruth’s House of Poetry for further details
about this author and her poetry.
Dear
White Sparrow readers!
It is
with strong conviction that I encourage you to always use
an author’s name when at all possible and in the
‘exact’ wording as originally written and intended.
The credit of an author and their work has earned
this ‘legal’ privilege!
It is paramount, that one does not take it upon
oneself to alter their work or their name in anyway.
When possible, one should make every effort to seek
the author’s permission to use their work for any
purpose.
It
has been my great honour to correspond directly with Ruth
Gillis, and to give her the credit she deserves. She has most graciously claimed credit for her original poem
above. I am
pleased that she has also honoured White Sparrow and her
readers by asking to be linked to White Sparrow Wigwam.
Find the link to Ruth
Gillis by visiting Wigwam H!
Blessings,
White
Sparrow
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