A Good Deed Done

A Good Deed Done by Rick Rucker I hardly even saw her there, Hiding in her cardboard lair. She was filthy all over, with dirty hair. I can't imagine her mounting terror, To spend this freezing night, in open air. I couldn't pass without a care, By morning, she'd be dead, a Fate, alas, not too rare. The guilt, for which, I'd not bear. I came up with a plan whose chance was fair, I drove to the cops, then found a pair that would transport Dirty Hair to a shelter where, some warmth, she'd share.