I

He grimaced while flexing forth,
the Hulk he was channeling, going North,
blonde crew cut, making a spectacle while
                                       wearing glasses
he wore a black tank, with no sleeves,
while the wind teased the leaves with a breeze,
and they fallsaulted (somer is over)
                             across the concrete at his feet,
                             it was all about him on the street,

                                       his handler, his care giver,
                                       watched with a shiver as
                                      as she had him and two
                                      others to deliver to their
                                      destination on foot, crime
fighting would delay the journey
                                                    and she was not sure who would
                end up on the gurney if it all went awry.  

                                              II

Short time later, as they passed by, gone, the other part of the duo
                                                             ­                                            arrived
she walked with swagger, in heels and no stumbles or missed steps,
                                                          ­                                       not quite a stagger,
dressed in black with jet-black hair, she was part ninja,  
part tim-bit monster,
or at least her appetite was,
the box of forty sat on her shoulder and she was delighted
by eating
them one at at time, her confident stride and petite feet,
stuck in almost stiletto heels acting,
very intuitive, see how she feels,
that kind of hero, because if she had to from fifty paces,
she could take out your eye with a honey crueler tim-bit
don't be fooled by
her ambivalent smile, and toss of her hair, those spoke of
caution and beware, as she stuffed another in there,
where she smiled while her eyes twinkled, kept moving her feet,
                   I think she spotted me from fifty paces,
                               away and from my second story window,
                                                it was curtains for me, I closed my eyes and braced for impact,
                                                         ­                                                           which never came,
                                                           ­                                                         as to her shame,
                                                          ­                                                          see even heroes
                                                          ­                                                          don't share
                                                           ­                                                         all the time.


No more heroes walked by that day,
crime rates were down and children were
                                      able to play
                        and be safe, so as my final thought
                      from my view on the second floor,
                          never under estimate anyone,
for real or in fun, and their capacity to bring joy, even without sharing.



©DWE102013