1
It comes and goes
Like a hit and run driver.
An errant bullet's ricochet,
A pickpocket works the crowd,
Your worst enemy gets the drop on you,
The rogue bacteria waits on a doorknob,
Or maybe the crosswalk you don't walk into
As a driver speeds through the light
While you stop to tie your shoe.
Luck and circumstance conspire to save you.
2
Every glorious second you spend here,
You engage in a game of dodge ball,
And bob and weave through a multitude
Of objective hazards, walls, and shoals
Over which you have no control―
Only a fraction of which you ever feel.
3
If we knew of every near-miss,
It could be tough to keep shuffling on,
And somehow, we learn just enough
To mostly keep us on our toes.
---o0o---
