This morning, on my way to work
I listened to a book of poems;
A sunny day,
The traffic slowed
and halted;
Susan Sarandon read aloud,
 Dylan Thomas,
Do Not Go Gently Into That Good Night;
Then I saw it;
Tractor Trailer, overturned,
spanning all three lanes of roadway;
My meager vehicle sat upon the shoulder,
In the shadow of its underbelly;
Colored lights and sirens screamed
as Susan Sarandon exclaimed
“Do not go gentle into that good night”
Emergency workers rallied around
the monster’s cab,
Cutting through the window, they found
the driver on the ground,
struggling; One man held his head in place,
the other bagged his mouth;
“Rage, Rage,” she cried “against the light,
Do not go gentle into that good night”
Before the outcome revealed itself,
the officers began to wave,
that onlookers should remove themselves
and go on with their day;
I do not know if that poor soul
determined to stay,
or if he met the good night; as foretold
But either way, he did not go gentle.




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