Hiding Place

A line full of sheets turned

rigid with the frost.

He hides in the yard from

the man he has crossed.

So cold he cannot feel

his fingers or the tip of his nose

he wonders should he go

back in and pick up his clothes.

He errs on the side of caution

and decides to wait it out,

wraps his arms around himself

when then he hears a shout.

 A pair of vigilant eyes

have spotted his hiding place,

nearly frozen solid he knows

he has no chance in a race.

No choice but to face the

consequences of his actions

even if that means spending

several months in traction.

The moral to this story is to

always respect another man’s wife,

especially if he is six feet five

and carries a large knife.

assorted color wooden house on mountain
Photo by Riccardo Bresciani on Pexels.com


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s