walking

In the rain and wind my umbrella protects me:
it stops anything except large metal objects
that compete on the street to dissect me.

And all goes well in the rain and the blast
and I duck around puddles and passing splashes
until I am challenged by a car turning fast.

Cold eyes at the wheel, waiting in the lane casually:
large wet black car, driver watches at my eyes;
but soon as cars pass, tires screech: casualty.

I leap clear, throw him a glance to match his stare:
I’m too old to dodge cars; he’s too psychotic to drive.
I shake, wondering what if I had just stood there.

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/wordcurrents/ Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
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