A woman of forty tells a friend her tale
'bout driving home after just four glasses of ale.
Two children sleeping in the back of the van
She squints at the road, drives the best she can
But finds her street blocked and must change her mind.
By this time she’s almost driving quite blind.
Cop pulls her over and smells her breath—
She blows high on his machine, but no arrest.
She’s sent home, no ticket, no DWI, no bail;
Just a warning that next time she will go to jail.

Emergency room hospital, woman of twenty-three--
Bloody, hysterical, asking if her boyfriend is free.
“Is he alive?” “Is he dead?” she asks the ER crew;
They calm her while the sheriff stands nearby; he knew,
And watches as they check her to see what’s wrong.
Broken jaw, nose awry, surgery scheduled at dawn.
Mishaps both, but ironic to tell:
One gets off free, one goes through hell. 

© 2005 George E Thompson