Little Hands

By: Marc Carver

As I went for my run
I thought about sneaking out for my second outside of the day and walking in the thunder storms to come.
They surely would
and I may even get hit by lightning,
I could wear one of those Geman world war one steel hats with the spike on
or a weather vain, cock
to see what happens
and other people could see which way the wind was blowing
as they walk past me with raised eyebrows.
You never know
when your time is up it is up
but sometimes
it is good to give life a little hand.

Categories: Poetry

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