Monday, August 10, 2009

"Passing the Spot" by Robert Winner


I pass the spot where I almost died
in a car crash; it happened fast—
a stick turned into a snake.

Our arms and hands pulled us out of it,
our body cells wanting to live
while our minds' dumb generals
slept at headquarters.

How easy it was to meet and talk with her—
the other driver, our sideswiped cars
askew at the roadside, moored in grass.
It was gentle, intimate:
we were brother and sister

conspiring against dying.
The heart took a deeper breath.
We knew ourselves one
with the sparrows and flies,

and the red-haired trooper
who wrote our information in his notebook.
The trees looked new, and her face
I was almost in love with:
young, incredibly interesting.

From The Sanity of Earth and Grass.


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