The Crash

A saw an accident today, far way,
In front of a long line of cars and trucks,
Formed in a queue,
I wondered about the other drivers.
Would they be patient?
Would someone turn about and leave?

I saw the police cars there at the front,
Wig-wagging red and blue,
Letting one or two through,
Watching the line limp along, I wondered.
Who would be late today?
Would they miss an important appointment?

I saw the tow truck driving by,
The flat bed kind,
With a camper van on the deck,
Front end crumpled and bent.
Was anyone hurt in this?
Who's vacation had ended today?

I saw the ambulance as it moved away.
It's lights were not blinking,
It slid away slowly, dirge-like,
As if it was in no hurry.
Was there anyone inside?
Had someone's life ended today?

I saw the man sitting at the roadside,
Crouched in the grass,
Knees tucked up and chin tucked down,
Still, as if he wanted to be invisible.
Was he the driver?
How had his life changed today?

Then the accident was behind me.
I moved quickly down the open highway,
Traffic spreading out,
Going further off into the distance.
I did not ask anymore questions.
I wonder if anyone else noticed the man?