Half Day Closing

The car had hit her head on, the witness said.
She had walked straight out, the elderly lady,
And the car had struck her, dead.
She lay, surrounded by lamb chops,
A newspaper, some odds and ends,
Hurrying to make the half-day shops
And a coffee date, with friends.

The crowd had gathered quickly,
Though others hurried away,
Some, like gamblers at a racetrack
Felt compelled to stay.
They formed a silent audience,
Standing, gawping in the rain,
Spectators at some morbid event
And then, the ambulance came.

She was lifted onto the stretcher,
Scuffed shoes placed by her side.
Surely no thoughts of coffee, now,
On her last pathetic ride.
No thoughts of shops or lamb chops,
Or hurrying in the rain,
The ambulance moved into traffic
And the siren whined, again.

The car had hit her head on,
The evening paper said.
An elderly lady, who hadn't looked
And the car had struck her, dead.