Motorcycle Helmet

At first
It was only a series
Of dots
Orange points of light
10010101000101100101
Forming the words
Accident
On
ECP
It was with trepidation
That we entered that highway
All seemed fine
Until we topped
The crest of a hill
A whole mass of gridlocked cars
Unmoving before us
Points of red light
Brake light
We joined the ever-growing crowd
More cars piling behind us
We were just another three lights
In a sea of red spots
We were just another silver car
In that mass of
Silver and gold and green and blue
Metallic bodies under the sun
We inched forward
Inch by inch by inch
Then we saw it
The first of the red cones
Its brothers lined up
Diagonally across each lane
Eventually spanning two lanes
Two and Three
We edged into lane One
I couldn’t see anything
Not from my place at the back
But my parents at the front
They spoke urgent words
“Don’t look”
Why?
I looked
I soon found out why
Upon the ground
A white body sheet
A police car near it
The policemen
And policewoman
Standing around the boot of the car
Talking together in a
Quiet huddle
As Death still lingered
Over the scene
The car that caused it
Snuffed out a life
And the motorcycle
Wrangled
Torn apart
Crushed
And the helmet
Upon the road
As still as its rider
As I gazed
I saw in my mind’s eye
A rider
A car
Impact
The whine
Of a police siren
Then hands
Tearing the helmet
Turquoise-green metal
Off his head
Throwing it aside
Recklessly
As life ebbs away
From under their hands
It rolls upon the tarmac
Slowly spinning
In a concentric circle
The helmet makes its
Final round
Teeters upon its edge
That brief, flashing moment
A delicate balance
Then it keels over
Upon its side
Comes to a stop
As still as its rider.