Son’s small car and I, the interstate to Dallas, would drive far. Make it home by 8 o’clock at my place? Wet ahead, but no rain, doing 75, not to dread this left lane, now just glad I’m alive. Slow overtake, Chevy (right lane) pickup, made me quake at the sight of his hiccup.
His hydroplane, now sideways, was a so clear to see, in my lane on this highway. The end of dear ole me? Swerve right in a spin? Or do I go left in the grass? Nervous fright made me begin to think this was my —. For God’s sakes.
Nowhere to go. Don’t mean to sound graphic. Hit the brakes. Don’t dare head for opposite-bound traffic.
So I would collide, we’d slide, but what a shock. Good luck. On his left wheel side, we’d glide like a hockey puck.
Like a tug mated to a barge, but so much faster, I had straightened his truck large, now, no such disaster. He’s OK now, but how I’d slide left down the grass, Hell to pay. Pow. Pow. Collide with posts en masse.
Then the ricochet, but I kept the wheel straight, slowed, made my way, crept atop the interstate. This ordeal did end, I would manage to survive. I would heal. I would mend. It’s good to be alive. Sore back strain was my only hurt factor. Lower back pain treated by my chiropractor.
Christ Stevens slain by Muslim hoods in Benghazi. Disbelievin’ Tyrone Woods turned kamikaze. If I can in this verse, I will try not to preach. Wife Suzanne still a nurse, son Kevin still does teach. Son Andy’s (ice cream) employed. I see planes at Westheimer. Hope my theme you’ve enjoyed, my refrains to be best rhymer.