Vision – Marietta Coles

Vision

By Marietta Coles

Bent metal

Shattered glass

Airbags like flattened marshmallows, smeared with blood

A pair of glasses, unharmed, resting on a bed of fragments

The coveted garage door opener

A bowl of potato salad nestled in the middle of the truck bed,

Deviled eggs in baggies, smashed

Eleven pints of carefully canned tomatoes

Covered with the molding spatters of the twelfth with its jagged rim

Golf balls and wooden tees

A plastic storage container, empty and cracked-

Stuff that didn’t matter when the ambulance came for her

And the son-in-law arrived on a rescue mission for him and the little dog.

Now, back to retrieve things

A rainy day like the one a week earlier

Mist and damp cool on an August afternoon

An eerie vision of what might have been

Sharing a grassy lot with tow jobs, wheels licked with tall blades- forgotten-

Stuff that didn’t matter