Yoke

 

 

I almost run me down crossing the road near the capitol building.  

I walk up to the car window, driver’s side.

I roll the window down.

I look up at me standing there.

I look down at me, a wreck, in the driver’s seat.

You almost ran me over! I say.  

Oh, I know! I’m so sorry! I say.

Slow down, I say, driving home alone.