Intrusion

She or he
In this case it really doesn’t matter
The figure is an indigenous figure
Parka with a cinched up hood boots mittens

Nothing but tip of nose
Sniffing this bitter cold as a name

I am too far away behind an office window
Anyway
To figure it out

Nonetheless a human soul
Most definitely alive
And surely with a childhood and toys
And a breakfast table and a teacher that one day
Saw something in them

And told them that after class

Has battled with the paddles of his/her arms
Their blue tarp
Puffed up tent on the other side
A fierce angle of river embankment

Invisible
But now exposed

With the trees and invasive bush gone
And the river’s current stopped in its backstroke
White and icy as an old man

Over the wooden river trail bridge

It pulls yanks kicks
A shopping cart piled high with that folded blue tarp
And assorted other frying pans and lanterns
And chains for whatever reason

Wheels don’t work in the deep snow
But know
The figure keeps at it fighting the narrow railing distance
Until they reach our shore

An hour it seems

How much time I’ve wasted
Watching it
Haul that contraption up and over a chest high snowbank
That doesn’t give despite the hot breath of hollering

Parks it all itself a neat fit
Between our parking lot line
Space

Ready for work

I thought about this
As I waited in line at the oil change place
To re-inflate my deadened tires

The Jiffy Lube attendant
Is ten years older than me at least
And I’m old
Or so I thought

He shuffles toe to heel wheel to wheel
Around the four corners of the car ahead of me
The neck of a hose dangling from his fist
Squeezing air

His brow cursed
His lips a clown
His hair gone

I had wadded up five bucks
In anticipation of a small thanks
To some young man or woman
For the favor

But I couldn’t bear to insult this guy
To intrude with such a gesture

I drove away.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2026

Poem

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