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.