In a rush

“It seems I made it.

I just crossed the finish line.

Yes?

And yet why then does this look more like the road less travelled by?

How could it be, if they built it for a race.

This is a race?”

From where she was

flat on the ground

she whispered these words to me.

I knew what answer she so desperately needed was.

Her life had passed her by.

Way past the speed limit of what she could contain.

“Can I rest here with you?”

“Can we just sit here? Us two”

“Can we catch up, do you think?”

In a rush

I sat there knowing it was a dead end street, without confessing it.

I looked down it and forward, endlessly so it seemed.

I drew a line we both could see and whispered:

“Here let me draw you slowly with one line, so you can see it all.

Here is where you were born and here …..”

All my lines faded away as they rushed in to pick up all that was left of her.

Which was not much.

And surely, no longer in a rush.