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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1458681-The-Walk-Home
Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1458681
Walking home from a party.
A lone dog barks in the still of the night,
A lone wolf howls at the moon.
Jack strains to see in the absence of light,
Nerves soothed as he whistles a tune.

He strolls down the street, cars passing him by,
Thoughts swirling around in his head.
The rain starts to fall, his clothes no longer dry.
The chill fills him with a sense of dread.

The party was just what he needed, he thought,
Relief from the pressures of life.
A beautiful woman was what he had sought,
One who would become his wife.

Things didn't work out quite the way he had planned.
Drunk slobs are not the best catch
For a woman who's looking for a man to land -
Jack left without meeting his match.

The party was fun, the music was loud.
The drinks were many and strong.
Now out on the street and away from the crowd -
A feeling that something was wrong.

Jack stopped in his tracks and looked all around.
No movement, no sound, and no light.
Yet something was wrong that he had not yet found.
He was in no shape for a fight.

Now he's soaked to the bone, high as a kite,
Though he started by looking for love.
Then a hand grabbed his arm, holding him tight;
Not from behind, from above.

The scream left his mouth before he could stop,
The shock made him sober up fast.
He broke from its grip, jumped away with a hop,
Took a breath as the fear slowly passed.

It wasn't a hand, but a branch from a tree
That was hanging just by a thread.
The night was so dark he could hardly see
The branch waving over his head.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he trudged on.
The first rays of sun soon arrive.
Jack wanted to make it home before dawn
But was too drunk and frightened to drive.

Now alone and wet, head starting to pound,
He thought about how he had erred.
It would be different the next time around -
He vowed to find someone who cared.

The storm more intense, it started to hail.
He ducked inside a café.
Dripping and wet, he was leaving a trail
Of slush wherever he'd stray.

He sat at the bar and ordered a drink,
Only soda at this time of day.
The waitress just smiled and gave him a wink
As she turned and sauntered away.

When the hail had stopped, Jack rose to his feet
And headed back out the front door.
The long journey home was nearly complete
He was tired and his feet were sore.

The town was quiet, not a car on the street -
But as he stepped into the road,
A car turned the corner, knocked him off his feet.
Shocked, he watched as the car slowed.

The waitress was driving, she felt really bad
So she offered him a ride.
With the smile on her face, he couldn't be mad.
Jack returned a smile just as wide.

The best things in life come to those who wait.
Finally Jack had been blessed:
The girl of his dreams had been chosen by fate.
Things had worked out for the best.
© Copyright 2008 Xander Riley (xanderriley at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1458681-The-Walk-Home