by Phillip Brady
The grip of a cold East Wind on the chest,
When you and the road are both going West.
When you stop for a chat with nothing to say,
When you wouldn’t have stopped like that yesterday.
Walking uphill with a step that’s not right,
With the hill diagnosed, but no hill in sight.
When the longest way round is the shortest way home
Half-way up the hill and you there on your own.
Noticing acid, with no acid in food
And a poor sense of humor to lighten the mood.
Do not be a hero who sits on the fence,
That looks the wrong way and jettisons sense,
Consult with an expert, respect their advice.
Listen and learn, it might not happen twice.
