It’s that time of year
when sidewalks slither to life,
their surroundings make silent escapes,
stand their ground practice
ambush predation leave
joggers shaken
at the ankles constrict airways
of the innocent.
It’s that time of year
when sidewalks slither to life,
Watch your step.
For today's prompt, write a nerve poem. Some folks are nervous; others have some nerve; still others seem to get on everyone's nerves. We all have a nervous system, and well, my nerves aren't wracked worrying that everyone will figure some way to poem out of this prompt.
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