He was glued to phone awaiting her call:
If she needed him to help her during post-surgery,
The weather was nasty,
The roads were treacherous over the hilly terrain.
She could have called her sister living close by,
But he was a sweet heart,
Their relationship was a cloud in the sky –
Tenuous but pregnant.
Finally she chose him
Even though she knew it was dangerous,
Because of his adroitness at the wheel
He tossed his parka over his shoulders,
Slammed on the snow-boots,
Dived into four-wheeler Jeep Cherokee,
And hit the accelerator with a rabbit’s sprightliness.
From the local roads to highway
Was a labyrinthine skating rink,
Every turn blind,
Every ten-feet a dead-end.
Hitting the highway was a relief,
But the increasing traffic created a new hazard,
And the spiraling snow invaded the windshield –
It was a journey to the unknown.
Meanwhile she cooked his favorites:
Chilling Merlot and arranged kettle-cooked chips,
His bed was made toasty comfy,
And the lights were dimmed.
After two hours progress became difficult,
As snow piled up,
Visibility was becoming scarce,
And speed was in single-digits.
Last fifty miles in two hours,
At this rate destination was another three hours,
Mission looked in doubt.
Another hour and driving had to be halted,
There was nowhere to go,
Coming out of the car he saw a universe of snow surrounding him,
He waited for the situation to take its course.
It was beyond eight hours since his departure,
Cell phones went dead and forecasts
Predicted an avalanche of snow in twenty-four hours,
It was a moment of destiny for her.
On the following day news reports stated
Seven deaths on I-95,
Later bodies were identified,
And he was among them.
Angela still looked out of the window
To hear the sound of his car entering the driveway,
As reports about him could be wrong,
Hours melted into days, and hopes turned into ashes.
Afterward the skies cleared,
Sunshine broke loose,
Everything looked fine,
And the world went on.
Suffern, New York, August 29, 2016