yesterday, a man in a flannel with white hair
spoke to me on the sidewalk.
"are you trying to cross the street, little lady?"
I said yes. I said I had been waiting for
some time.
"you just gotta hold your head up high and
go," he told me. "they'll stop for you."
and before I could open my mouth to object,
he closed his eyes and advanced,
one battered shoe at a
time.
I followed, and as mini coopers
and jeeps
and even pickup trucks ground to a halt,
I realized that I had
never felt more
brave.
"now that wasn't so bad, was it?"
