Days of unforgettable mistakes

We were always late on Mondays,  
snow only made it worse.  
The college canteen would be empty,  
still wet with slush.  
KitKat wrappers and tepid coffee,  
relics of raising student's heads.  

The light was just behind us,  
a cold night's eye opened as you drove.  
half asleep I watched the morning making shapes,  
dropping through mist pockets,  
feeling gray-scale against the Mexico’s yellow.  
Gently we drifted,  
millimeters above the apex.  
 
If you’re going to hit a tree  
Cedars are splendid and solid.  
If you think you might die,  
then its shape will be quite dramatic  
against the planted bulbs  
and hand-placed flowers,  
a pilgrimage for family and friends  
to find you for a while.  
Before the plastic wallet  
with your picture fades  
and flowers forget their colour.  
 
The force broke both my legs.  
I couldn't cry,  
I had to listen upside down,
as the engine slowly burbled  
in you throat.