Alexandra Leadbetter

I woke from an urgent call;

“There’s been an accident. Mr. D was involved.”

Rushing to the scene, I couldn’t believe

a thousand scattered pieces lying before me.

Notorious town drunkard, and ill-tempered man,

Only ten arrived to lend the search a hand.

Sunrise just breaking the concrete horizon,

We found no body, our search hastily widened.


No surprise at what we found:

Shards of liquor bottles that helped him survive.

He couldn’t see the road signs or the wall where he landed

blinded by comfort he found in his habits.

When we retired the efforts of our men,

we hadn’t located all of Mr. D.

I drove the long stretch home,

swearing I saw what made him whole.

Miles away, on the side of the road.