one minute,
you're zipping down the road,
singing along with the radio,
like you always do,
chewing gum,
sipping coffee,
trying to keep a nice constant
bit of space between you
and the woman in the SUV behind you
or the man on a motorcycle passing to the left of you
or the guy whose truck
just crashed into the guardrail,
whose truck bursts into flames,
so you wait and wait and wait
for eight minutes that seem like eight hours
and suddenly the road is full of red
blinking lights
your ears are full of screaming sirens
and you understand in a whole new way
how precious every minute is