This Poem was Submitted By: Drenda D. Cooper On Date: 2001-09-18 19:57:33 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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EARLY EYES (A Tragic Trilogy)

Early Eyes (I) He swipes sleep from early eyes His shorts and tank on cedar chest Dressed and out before sunrise On his personal running quest That power meeting yesterday Something that his boss had said About chances missed along the way And "personal change" to get ahead Eyes heavy, stifling a yawn, He thinks, perhaps, the boss is right I'm always up before the dawn And always working late at night Been trying my best to do it all  Keep body, mind, and soul intact I play the game, run with the ball It's getting tiresome, that's a fact Funny, how habits become ingrained I had better pick up speed To the same streets I've been chained What's to fear, it's change I need! Will morning's sunrise ever come To lighten up my load this day I'll take the new cut road back home Now that's a change, a different way Footfall's padding, monotonous drone Finally, he enters that special place Atheletes commonly call it the 'zone' Like flying, suspended in  time and space  Early Eyes  (II) She swipes sleep from early eyes 'Up late' nights have got her down Yawning, thinks, too early to rise Wish I could skip that drive cross town That power meeting yesterday Something that her boss had said About chances missed along the way And "personal change" to get ahead Well, perhaps, the boss is right We'll see, but only time will tell I've been working late each night Then up at dawn, it's just plain hell It's getting tough to beat that clock Too much work and too much play Then, going 'round and 'round the block Hunting parking space each day Too many stops on the cross town route Yawning, thinks, if I take that new cut Might make up the time for coffee take-out Great to get out of my old rut Funny, how habits become ingrained I had better pick up speed To the same streets I've been chained What's to fear, coffee's all I need! Will morning's sunrise ever come Reaches over, switching on her light Thinks, this road's much darker than some Hits the curve, then swerves far to the right. Nauseous panic and ripping fear Fill her stomach, she hears her own scream Oh, God--please let it be only a deer Wake me up from this horrible dream!! Early Eyes  (III) He swipes sleep from early eyes Thinks, shift changes all week long Are wearing me thin, and I despise  This feeling that something's wrong The boss had said just yesterday At the patrolman's weekly meeting Change was needed, a better way To share the load, not take a beating Partner calls in, his shift now double Heading toward town, takes the new cut Still dark, blind curve, up ahead, trouble, A guy's in the road, some running nut Down a bit farther, he turns it around As a car speeds by him without any lights Thinking, more trouble, turns on his sound Dawn and dusk, even worse than the nights Funny, how habits become ingrained He pedals it hard to the floor Too long now, this job's kept me chained I need to open a brand new door   Praying, must catch that speeder before They hit that curve, don't see that nut Thinking, enough of all this highway gore Each time, it hits square in my gut Finally gets there, a minute too late Swerves mark the road, woman's crying Another statistic has met his fate Add one more wounded, dead, or dying Will morning's sunrise ever come With heavy heart, he radios in Eleven more hours before he goes home Sunrise signals a new day to begin

Copyright © September 2001 Drenda D. Cooper

Additional Notes:
Did not get this one finished before the tragic occurrence of Sept. 11, but had started it after viewing a segment on Dateline a few days before...the segment concerned the high number of highway accidents and deaths resulting from "sleep deprivation" and how common it is these days... this being a "preventahle," yet still tragic occurrence, decided to finish it--in the wake of the jets crashing into the WTC towers with the resulting tragic loss of life (unforeseen)--we tend to forget how high our highway death toll is rising. I realize it is not a very lyrical or "poetic" piece--the use of the commas as the only punctuation was on purpose, due to the use of so many short phrases--


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