National Poetry Month- breakfast poem in one minute with a timer

sometimes I drive and forget that I have passed miles
I am unsure where they have gone
and then I start to think about ideas that are not pleasant
like what if I died so suddenly like
in a flash of metal and twisted car parts
someday on a road
and how sad that would be for the people left behind to clean up my messes
the ones in my house and in my journals
and littered through the hearts of people here and there

we are supposed to die very old I think
with much time to prepare to leave this earth
having tidied up all of our secrets and fears
swept them into tiny piles
burned them in the backyard
the ashes would stick to our tongues
and the wind would help us

-amy turn sharp
one minute poem over breakfast of black coffee and toast with thick butter slabs

photo via ffffound