I came upon
the twisted cycles and black
SUV with front end caved:
still, somber, blue lights,
sirens, a few onlookers
in pick up trucks, red and white ambulance,
a strawberry blond on
the stretcher waiting....
I slid around another S turn:
bouquets of wilted sunflowers,
roses, plumeria tied to
the rusted, crumpled guard
rail. More flashing yellow curves,
sugar cane fields and eucalyptus trunks,
satellites atop Mt. Ka'ala's corduroy
slopes, vistas open to the shore,
the strawberry blond.
Linda Buskey LeBlanc
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|Reviewed by Z McClure
|This is a vivid, sobering narrative, made even more poignant by the contrast in the beautiful, inviting nature, against the tragedy. But it is a hopeful poem, in that the strawberry blonde was not alone, but surrounded by people who cared. I enjoyed your poetic and story-telling skills Linda! Thanks
|Reviewed by Felix Perry
|So vivid in your telling and so sad...the mind leaps direct from your words to a vision of a young girl who could be permanently damaged if not dead...so sad.