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Reflector


by Anthony Van Hart


I circled about six times - mesmerized by the sign that said you needed socks. 

Just passing through it said - 

As I made my third pass I thought - well, aren't we all.

You looked cold. 

Fragile. 

And younger than the wrinkles that engulfed your hands, neck and face.

I managed to make my way to the trunk - mom kept emergency socks there. 

Handling them over - the reflector on your sign squinted my eye as a tear rolled from yours. 

Careful, now. You're liable to soak them socks. 
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