Dealing with It

 Dealing with It

Those flashing blue lights closing in behind me—

Are for me?  Really?  Tonight it’s been so hard 

to see, even the yellow lines have seemed obscure.

And that’s what it’s about. Being out here in the dark, 

when I should be safely tucked into a facility for seniors,

a classy Westview Meadows sort of carpeted safe space.

At this age, maybe security matters more than freedom

to pursue an errand or whim.  Who was it, Emerson?  

Thoreau?  Who recommended writing WHIM above the

doorsill as a reminder that impulse may be the great

Connector.  Today could be shaped by thoughtful plan

or spontaneous response to the unexpected.  Choose.

But first, pull over and be polite, contrite.  Damn it,

those flashing lights mean business.  Collect yourself

and give ‘em your trustworthiest shell.   Do it!

       —Sef, 5/31/2025