A stroke?
A seizure?
A heart attack?
A death.
In the truck, in the driveway, in the morning
Where the light had just touched the dark
And the colors swirled together like paint water
The faint orange brushing upon the emptiness

Out of the driveway moved a child, a girl,
A teenager in a rush to gather her friend
And not be late
A phone call that said something’s wrong
And the tears that spilled as she continued driving
The soft voice of her friend
Telling her to turn around
The hysterical protests that she did not understand

A classroom of kids just like her
With smiles and stories and homework
The dam that had kept her sane through the hallway
Worked no more
She fought nothing as they held her tight
Nothing but their offers to take her home
She drove herself
And that day
A woman became a widow
And that woman lost two