A Sign

I was driving across the bridge as the clock said 11:59. 
 It was almost midnight, I'm not even kidding.
How exciting is that?!


I thought, Oh my god, when I get up to the peak of this bridge, it will be midnight, and some portent will for sure reveal itself  to me.  In a big way.

So I started looking for signs, straining for something, you know? The time, the time!


The orange industrial lights blinded me from the north, the toxic river lulled me to the south.


But nothing.  Not one fucking sign of any kind.


I thought, what a dreary world this is, this is a pretty sad place where magical things don't really happen, no one ever really tells us the way.
Then.  It.
at 12:03
(I know because I checked!)
at 12:03, a meteor fell from the sky through the hood of my car, flipping me over several times thereby gaining the momentum for my car that I still owed 15,000.00 and myself  to be flung over the guard rail,  off the bridge and into the far-flung spring cold Duwamish below.  

No, I didn't "live".  

I "live" under the bridge where it's safe.  Not on the top. Some ghosts aren't very nice and there's a lot around here. 
 I spend most of all of my time sitting here at the peak of the bridge, watching the cars run to and fro.  Remember those moments, I want to tell you.  Your hands on the wheel, your mind in the world.  The  road running so fast underneath you.  The wide sky above you.

But the wind carries my voice so I make no sound at all.
At all.

***********************************************

Burning DNA

We used to walk up this road holding hands.

See how it ends at the woods up there?
Back there, that's where we used to have our bonfires.

He was always the drunk guy that would climb
up into the old treehouse
and then jump down and land REALLY CLOSE,
or in the fire.  He thought it was hilarious,
all ninja-like.





I have dreams about him;
I'm wandering through a haunted house
 looking for him.
I know he's there, but I can't find him.
Shit.  I hate those dreams.

Once I had a sad dream;

 we were in a beautiful garden,

and I was holding his hand and we were smiling and

I said    Let's go explore   and 

he let go and said     I can't, I'm dead.

They actually found him out there,
by the old fire spot and the old tree house.
I haven't been back there for years.
There's condos there now!
Maybe in the dirt under the foundations,
there is a fossilized boot print, or
some of his DNA on a flattened and burned beer can.
(does DNA burn?

The only proof left that he was ever here in the first place.

Except for that elusive spirit of my dreams.