Day 23. Reflection

In 7th grade
I saw my first body
from the window of my school bus
as we rounded a grassy corner on
the back road where
Scarborough becomes Cape Elizabeth.
It was an old man,
his wispy gray hair was 
billowing lazily in the wind,
his body mostly hidden in the
tall grasses, lay on his side.
His motor scooter, sea-foam green,
upside-down beside him,
a wheel still turning slowly.
The bus driver swerved
so he wouldn't hit him again.
I could hear sirens coming
as we continued on our route.
No one else saw the body,
or the scooter,
except for Pete,
the bus driver,
​and me.