Trip

One sunny moment in his golden van,
going to the Shore with a wife
and little daughter.

It's a Saturday
in August,
not a work day.
Maybe things
are working out,
improving,
a trip away,
today.

A peripheral glance,
a sixth sense, one
final millisecond of knowing
terror.

Smack,
thud,
screeching
rolling tumbling
smash and skid
to a halt.

And someone
some other people
see it all.
Don't look at the driver's side.

Clothes packed this morning
strewn across
three lanes and shoulder.

CPR administered in the sun
on the eastbound side,
someone else saw and
updated the other people
on 78.

Daddy forevermore,
nothing else.