Help The Helper
I pulled over for a car on the street
The trunk was open and the hazards were on
The flames were low, but present
My window was down
And I asked the large, scruffy-bearded man
“Are you okay”
The flames grew
He raises his hand, with a wrench I didn’t see before
And points
“Go”
The flames became a wildfire
And so I do
I pull away fast as I could, noticing he was looking at me as I did
Every person could be concealing a wrench
A blunt weapon
To leave your spirit with bruises
A sharp one,
To leave holes in your memory
Bullets to pierce your heart
Fire
To burn you
Was the hazard light on me for me, Lord?
Do I attempt to connect, despite the danger?
Lord, do I love regardless
Or do I never pull over for someone again
Do I never park my car next to theirs
And hope their fire warms me
And mine warms them?
Light emits heat
And heat only promises presence
Of hate
Of love
Lord, let the next car I pull over for
Let the next car be a campfire
A fire place
To be loved
To be close