No Threat

 

Verse 1, in which I walk ‘cross town after dinner

at my favorite tavern, toward an evening

of fellowship with like-minded creators

on a sunlit early evening in July,

full of nothing but a sense of peaceful well-being.

 

Verse 2, in which I enter the public walkway,

stroll past the smallest park I’ve ever seen

(only a few benches, a dog-shit-bag dispenser

and a trash barrel), and spy a young woman

at the other end of the path, walking toward me.

 

Verse 3, in which she becomes aware of me,

slightly changes course, moves to the far edge

of the pathway, forces me to realize that,

despite my sense of myself as unthreatening,

she sees some darker potential.

 

Verse 4, in which we each make every effort

to avoid eye contact, me out of a desire

to give no cause for concern, no reason for fear;

she, I presume, to give me no excuse to speak to her,

to intrude on her space, her peace, her safety.

 

Verse 5, in which I would wish to draw some

profound conclusion, but realize the women

among us know all too well the truth here

revealed, a truth the men among us could

never understand, much less explain.