by Ibe Liebenberg

One is marked with flowers.

I do not drive down that street

or any of the others.

they put up pictures and crosses

to remind me to look away.

 

Some have nothing

because I pave over them in sleep.

Set up signs, do not enter,

closed forever.

 

If I forget, or am

forced to revisit,

I will look ahead,

stare at the center line,

unfocus my eyes and

make a memory to believe.

Tell myself I saved you.