Poetry

A herd of leaves tumble across the black asphalt. 

Different shades of orange and brown.  

The moon shines less brightly, 

then the streetlamps. 

A leaf crunches. 

I turn to look. 

There is the silhouette of a man. 

I walk faster to my car, heels pounding, 

Against the black asphalt. Footsteps following, 

right behind me. I reach into my purse for my keys. 

Looking for my pepper spray at the same time. Then they fall. 

Cling. 

I turn to  

see how close 

my pursuer is, but 

It was only a man casually 

Walking to his car as 

well. Never even 

glancing my 

way.  

The wind 

blows a sigh of 

relief with me. As 

I pick up my keys and  

wonder what 

could have 

happened.