Death Highway Poem by James Papastamos

Sixty miles an hour! That was the speed limit
in Braille that only the blind might see
the cars were a speeding bullet,
raping the midnight air with winds that seemed to
wrap themselves around its victims, as
tornadoes danced, and minutes advanced,
over and done with…at the blink of an eye

Tires screaming, bumpers fleeing the scene
never ending drops of rain to drape the silver moon
traffic, a virtual bottle neck, gradually,
carelessly danced its way within view…full view
camera lenses roaring with anticipation, cell phones
aimed and ready, focused yet four eyed
prisons, there to capture time’s latest victims

And when it was all over, over at long last,
smoke, its final vapors, rose to proclaim such victory
clouded the morning air, corrupt yet debonair
chocking the life out of what seemed to be
history’s final chance to let us know what really happened,
as onlookers went their merry way,
and wept for those who’d never see this day…