Instinct Dictates

 

There’s a drunken man

Shouting on the corner;

Figures walking past

Speed up.

 

Instinct dictates

Awkward manoeuvers -

He’s stumbling, but not quite

Falling;

Not quite.

 

3 pigeons

In avian paradigm

Bridging the gap -

For scraps;

Moving in then out

Formation dancing;

Alarmed

Then fleeing

Some flying.

 

Up closer;

The drunken man

Shouting on the corner

Isn’t drunk;

And some have caught his words

And stopped;

He’s throwing out Word bombs

Incendiary phrases.

 

 

I wince

At recognition

Of a firebrand prophet;

I’m physically offended at such

Old Covenant declarations;

But we share

In the same communion.

 

Will I bridge the gap –

For this brother?

I know that fear

Is a liar;

But instinct dictates;

And I speed up.