Every Day is a Close Call

By Bobbie Lovell

It’s the blessed dry patch
on the icy road,
the averted collision,
the well-timed jerk awake
or slam of brakes,

the last-chance branch
cantilevered from the cliff,
the arm that shoots out
to break your fall,
the fluky fistful of fabric and hair,

 

the dropped knife that spares the foot,
the gun discharged sans bullet,
all the lightning that strikes
elsewhere,
the instinctive dodge,
the ducking,

the time you took the other route
for the hell of it, or stayed home,
the fortuitous sick day,
the lucky thwarted plan,

the word lodged in your throat,
the love-charged moment grounded
by shifted eyes, random distraction,

the narrow victory
of sage restraint

that keeps you safe.