I Salute Thee, My Worthy Adversary
The door leading into the outside world
squeaks as it slowly grinds open.
I pause for a second, my feet ready to fly above the ground,
and we meet.
A gentle handshake suffices as a greeting, then
as we are both prepared, there is no more time wasted on simple pleasantries.
Our battle begins.
You howl and beat and push me back.
I yell a war cry and shove forward, my feet moving ever so slowly.
For five . . . ten . . . twenty minutes we fight. We both know the other won't give in.
There is a turn in the road and I think maybe, maybe I have won.
Maybe you have gone?
Suddenly you spring out of your hiding place to ambush me and—
there is nothing left I can do but
begrudgingly bow my head in defeat.
You are the victor of this battle,
my worthy adversary.
Now, the board is cleared
and the field of battle awaits us with fresh morning dew.
The tallies from yesterday have been counted, but today
we shall find they weigh in a new amount.
When, winded I return to my home, smiling.
I salute thee, my worth adversary,
but today, today is the day I claim victory