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You were chased
To the tunnel of
Traffic.
Though it was sparse,
The edges it defined
Are those of a knife,
Sharpened on both sides.
As we crest the hill,
I see you,
Immobilized by fear,
Paralyzed by instinct.
Your flight to the woods
Is a second chance.
Others follow your lead,
Ensuring you are not alone
For at least one more
Circling of the sun.
My clutched breath
Escapes,
Much like you,
Into the depth
Of the woods.

Categories: Poetry