Cortege

Cortege

Traffic queueing on the type A road
suddenly slowed to an impatient stop
clogging like cholesterol in an artery
blood pressures rising

then becalmed with engines running
watching grass bask on the verge
tuning into local radio ,grabbing a mint
hearing of a crash earlier
near Lamberhurst

The police investigating
and clearing up

then the queues tipped their bonnets
became quiet, sober, hushed
each car filled with black petals
soft sombre snowstorms

little prayers were murmered
family counted ike rosary beads
tapped out on wheels
please God not children
not anyones child

but diverted by doorways
in unknown lanes
silent gardens spelled out
someones not coming home.