Fragility

It is easy to forget how fragile we are,

the strongest among us

seemingly young and powerful,

yet,

in one moment to the next

all can be torn away;

helplessness is what is left,

in fact,

Along our highways it is shown,

a lesson in temporality;

crosses and shrines

dedicated to a loved one,

mostly the very young

whose thought of invulnerability

again shown wrong.

There is one such shrine near Heritage High school,

just past the light going away from Conyers;

Aubrae was her name,

the dates there for all to see

1989-2007.

I pass it sometimes three or four times a day,

it is like a slow drip of sorrow,

I almost feel as if I know her

a young girl cut down

leaving mourning

and the cold void,

yet still loved and remembered,

even by strangers like me.

I doubt I am the only one who says a prayer,

both for her and her family

as I drive past,

seeming to speed,

yet each time a piece of me,

a small one,

is left behind.

It is near a school,

so perhaps it is more powerful,

so close to other young lives,

a few who will one day join her,

perhaps they to will have

a cross and flowers placed there

by a loving family,

so strangers will see,

learn to even love the one unknown

and drop a prayer at each passing,

the speeding by

an illusion.

We are like glass

easily shattered

and yes

destroyed.

Perhaps our strength

is that we persist

day in and day out

learning to forget

we live our lives

on the edge.

For we

dance before the precipice,

only one day to fall over

into the darkest

of mysteries,

which awaits us all;

a terror buried

often forgotten

in our hurly-burly lives.