Streetlights cast long ominous shadows while leaves start to rise ever higher until they swarm around me in dizzying circles. A sudden flash of headlights shoots by my hair whips my face frantically; then metal grunts in a loud, angry crumble leaving careless trails of shattered glass. The car in a losing wrestle against one ornery oak My heart pounds: a relentless drumbeat car and tree forever etched into my mind everything, my breath, hangs in the air. I try to drag my feet towards the car, knowing the specter of mortality forever just beneath our seemingly ordinary lives; sirens wail lamentably moments later.
E Kraft is a poet who enjoys creating origami art and coding for a non-profit organization. Her poems have been published by The Inlandia Institute, The Hanging Loose Press, The National Poetry Quarterly, and others. She is grateful for everyone who has read her poems or attended her readings.
Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License (CC-BY-NC-ND 4.0)
