Prom Night

I didn't want to
Admit it to myself
As I sat alone
On the front porch
Curled up in the lawn chair
With a cup of hot chocolate
Craddled in my hands

Watching, waiting.
Wanting so bad to see
The reflection of his headlights
On the trees.
Wanting to see him get out
Of his 18th birthday present,
A '97 mustang convertible
Dressed in his tux
To take me to the prom.
But that silver convertible
Will never be seen again
Because of the telephone pole
That neither of us had seen there before

The inside of the ambulance
All the people around my bed
In the hospital,
Most of them crying silently
Into their hands

I sighed and turned my head
Towards the house.
"Mom"
She appeared beside me and
Helped me into the wheelchair
To which I had to confide in
Since prom night.