Earth Angel

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 Earth Angel
 
Your world comes alive
in a 1960 snapshot with scalloped edges.
You lean
 
against a pizzeria window;
your hair blonde, your arms muscular;
a Marlboro pack
 
stuffed in your t‑shirt sleeve.
Avenue night moves out of your eyes,
bobbing your shoulders
 
on the stride's bright Friday.
Your smile's shining hood rides
its chrome indian over the lines
 
and under the lights.  You rode
into the radio's high ride
and died
 
            the ideal teenage swerving Chevy,
American through and through,
riding the hard
 
roaring faith of an engine
into the fire.  Police lights
stained the trees as firemen
 
hosed the road.  All those sparkling shards
of glass baptized
in brother blood.
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