Wolmarian Girl
On a busy Marescaux Road where
No one cared for an injured dog,
Where motorists do not come to a slow,
And honking horns hammer
As impatient traffic competes toe to toe,
There on the asphalted heat
The painful cry of a wounded creature
Pierced through the peak-hour hub of the street.
Out into the throbbing traffic
The Wolmarian girl stepped
Caring none except
for that injured dog– whimpering, pleading,
Fighting with its final breaths.
And the honking swelled and motorists yelled.
From their faces, I could discern
They were void of an iota of concern.
Above the chaos, I heard her whisper
Gentle reassurance to the timid creature.
The Wolmarian girl bent
and slowly lifted her casualty
And walked back to the sidewalk
With ceremonious dignity.
And I have always wished to be as brave as she
Who defied the odds to honour her humanity.
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