The Harvest, 7/24/14
A lone figure was watching the scene unfold,
the truck disintegrated sending shrapnel everywhere.
Sparks flew from torn metal-he was dead.
His truck slammed into a woman's car shredding it.
Barely saw it happen too fast to react,
glass breaking the windshield.
Warm blood leaks and pools,
the smell of gasoline was strong.
Both drivers died right away.
The car was unrecognizable, tangled with the truck.
The airbags were deployed but did no good.
It seemed like forever sirens in the distance,
the ambulance was first but the corner was called.
Firemen and police were busy trying to pick up the pieces.
Death was chuckling he watched the spirits rise from the wreck,
He swing his sickle wide,
as he gathered up the dead his job done.
Bekkie Sanchez ©