Survivor
The Sound of their laughter
in the dream, I still hear.
I wake up in a sweat
with their screams in my ears.
On a road trip to Tucson,
my teammates and I
met with disaster
and two of them died.
Our team van blew a tire
at a high rate of speed.
It flipped on the highway.
I can still hear the screams.
I kicked out a window
when the van came to a stop.
and dragged out my teammates
off of the blacktop
It was then I lost consciousness
the state trooper said.
I saw white sheets pulled
over two of our dead.
He said I was lucky
and so it must seem
to someone who never
had to wake from the dream
poem by John F. McCullagh
Added by Poetry Lover
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