Tribute to the victim of a speed trap

Tribute to the victim of a speed trap in East Nowra

Driving past Kinghorn and the Princes one
evening I saw her, hard, silent, swift,
pouncing with red and blue lightning flung
toward my late companion who switched

to take the slower way not quite slowly
enough. Arachnid sleek, purring, she cast
her silken trap. Closer… yes: one, two, three
- and swoop, snatch! Irrevocable.
                                       Too fast,

she says, and draws out bloodless skin to stain
with venom. It has cost.
                             A century
of minutes akin in flight, then this. Shame-
edged heartbeats fill my ears. I check my speed

and continue to drive, solitary:
chilled and guilty-thankful to be free.

- I indended this to be read out as though it were prose, with only breaks marked with punctuation, not at the end of each line.