Listening intently, hazards
a-flash in downy dark,
stark peril pending.
Something about a lending
hand helping puts me on edge,
or so you say. This isn’t, after all,
a two-way street. As in,
my feet are capable of pointing
only in one direction,
and do so of their own volition.
A probable collision is enough
to bring anyone closer together.
Get back to me after I’ve had a chance
to pick the gravel out of my teeth.

-r. miller

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