Ode to a Seatbelt

Amid the crunch of
collision, such a small
thing wards off death in
the moment of slow-motion
crash, protecting from
the reckless hand of fate,
but not without cost.
Sighing in the instant
before impact, it warns,
"This might hurt a little."
Then steels itself for
the inevitable task--its
created purpose--and
when released from duty
bemoans the necessary
bruises it left behind.
Such a little thing, really,
yet with so great a job.
A small strip, narrow but
strong, the very reason
I am still alive.