Ranger Danger and The Lying Angel

Doorways disappear in the rearview frame
The starry night is looming
Like a mother grizzly, poised for the easy
Rainforest kill.
The rusty gears in my legs pump with ambition-
Steam pours from my eyes.
I hear the mechanical click of headlights behind
And with a slow shrug, push my jacket further up
My pale neck.
Piano sounds buzz in harmony with lonely crickets
Inside my skull, drowning out my
Slow footsteps.
I mull over memories and ideas, breath escapes me
In rapid succession-
The headlights are closing in.
My pockets are filled with my damp knuckles.
Somewhere ahead a watery voice creeps forth
“You can’t run away- too dangerous”
A rickety carriage with no horse crawls to a halt
At my side.
Out from the driver’s side climbs a hefty black angel
With small slips of paper dangling from her sparkling blouse
I enhance my pace and turn my chin skyward,
The black angel purses, her voice persistent and clunky:
“Too many deaths these days- you can’t run away- come to me”
I mutter something in slow motion but she pursues still,
Her wrinkled fingers reaching out to me,
Pulling me in and smothering me against her
Loose papered garb.
She mutters holy words of wisdom
And plants featherweight kisses atop my scalp.
I feel my insides collapse and my legs quiver with relief
Her arms disappear from me
And a single slip of paper remains attached to my shoulder
I read it out loud to myself:
“Never confuse danger with opportunity”
I smile somewhere inside
And retrace my steps back down the concrete curbs
Till I am consumed by headlights
Consumed by misery again
Back home,
Safe and sound.