I found myself standing on the edge
of the path I trailed everyday.
And the roaming machines that passed,
a hair's breath away.
Frost curling up my back,
a cloud of white in my face.
Still, the red lights shone clear,
but look left and right, I did anyway.
I was in no rush.
Ten minutes more, like any morn.
But the road was clear and the way, quiet,
so I stepped forward and
all the strangers watched.
I made it--
five minutes to spare--
And like every other day,
I lived so I could wonder
about the next.