There were no great white flashes
Of lightning, no
Sudden, momentous, important
Was easily washed-over
Dull as a river rock
When I lived with you.
Some people have roundness, smoothness
To do no thing pointed
In their hearts, in their heads
Slow white puffs of soft smoke
It could always be worse
Death by day-to-day drama
In whirling insistent violence
Rather than calmly, bit by bit.
Vigilance breaks heads. It severs nerves.
As a thing sneaks in upon you
Slides the blade in, slick, bloodying
You will have saved the lives, like a superhero
Of every prior day
by Coke Brown Jr. -
as posted on Coke's Croaks -