He passed us, fast, maybe 85 mph. I remember red, blue, and ropes strapping his belongings around his motorcycle. I remember wondering where he was going, a road traveler like us. Minutes later, and in a flash, he's gone.
I don't want to look, but I know he's lying there. We've all stopped, and now we wait for sirens and flashing lights. God how fragile we are. I don't know where we'll sleep tonight, maybe right here on this bridge. But that's of little consequence and I guess I don't care. Numb is still numb. Sleep is still sleep, alive is still alive. One more day is still one more day.
Rest in peace brother, rest in peace...