Wrecks
We always see something
Of ourselves in them
When we take the time to
Look through the shattered wind
Shields through which
They once stared so calmly
Into the softly lit room
Their headlights prepared
Just for them
But that they could never
Seem to enter
While from where we stand
We can see into the interiors
Where they survived
Or didn’t
Either way
They come back as us
To gaze through
Our reflected faces
Into the wreckage