Ferragosto

An occasional driver, licensed to kill till 2017,
I drive down from the mountains carefully,
in the inner city badly,
spared only by other drivers' skills.
Next day a flying registration plate
narrowly fails to sever my neck.
I turn to see a light red Fiat flip into the heat-heavy air,
bounce its roof on tarmac and right itself, all wrong.
Its passengers tumble out, alive, cursing.
In those few seconds, my fears for them
overlay my thoughts of you,
who, with a glance, gifted me the will to live,
then left for a nuclear family jaunt
among jungles and mountains
where life is even more fragile
than in this car-bespattered city.
So I fear for you, fear your deeper absence:
although I don't have you, I can still lose you.
Jeannette, however closed to me, come back to me,
Be close by me; come back, let's see.                      

Bryan Murphy

If you've any comments on his poem, Bryan Murphy would be pleased to hear from you.