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Aug 2018
Burning, midday asphalt
reaches up to break my fall,
as I crumple in a heap
of broken pain.

Wiping blood and sweat
from my face,
a voice cuts through the
sound of my beating heart.

Gentle hands reach out,
calm and soothing,
lead me to icy coolness
and safety.

Divine messengers,  
press me to ride
their magic medical van
to ER.
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
Vicki Kralapp
Written by
Vicki Kralapp  Oshkosh
(Oshkosh)   
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