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2020-11-06T12:59:29-08:00November 3rd, 2020|Musings on life|

The joy of misconceptions

I see him each time
I circle the block,
trying to find a spot to park.

He is sitting inside his truck,
the kind that is more tires
than truck.

“Hey,”
he barks at me,
rolling down his window
as I pass him a third time.

I see that he is clearly
made of boulders.

I consider driving away
because my brain has quickly
produced a long list
of reasons this large man
wants to kill me.

“Hey,”
he barks again,
and points behind him,
as he eases his truck forward
so that there is room
for me to park.

He must have wondered later
why I thanked him so profusely,
for it was not that he did a kind thing,
or my relief that he did not kill me.

It’s that I meet so few strangers these days,
I ached for that wondrous unravelling
you feel as your heart catches up
to your misconceptions,
as you find yourself holding
the unexpected gift
of being proven
so marvellously
wrong.

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