Wewahootee Road
Spirits of Native American warriors run on the hidden trail.
I was out chasing Democrats who Vote By Mail.
Dark was falling; the road ahead unclear.
The sign on the side of the road said I had a lot to fear.
“You’re on your own beyond this boundary.”
That was the warning from Orange County.
I steered slowly around potholes bigger than my Civic.
To some less committed, I might look heroic.
If I go missing, my F.O., Bryan, knows the plan.
Point the searchers to the last turf I cut on VAN.
Re-entering paved roadway and seeing homes clustered,
I searched for my targets, trying not to feel flustered.
Voter Guides, cards for Charlie and George at the ready,
Checking my map, I kept my hands on the wheel steady.
Reading house numbers in the dark strains my sight,
But I struggle on with the help of an occasional light.
One strong supporter brightens my night.
She’s fired up and ready to join our fight.
Heading for home, I hear ghost warriors chanting of the
beauty
That once graced the hidden trail named Wewahootee.
Eileen, not sure if you meant this as tongue in cheek. To me, the vote is important.... but not worth risking life. The mantra should be always go in pairs... preferably a man and woman.... people seem less frightened to open a door to a man and a woman than to a man or two men. If the hair on the back of your neck is standing up... it is a basic animal self preservation instinct. Obey it. Leave. Come back with an associate.
ReplyDeleteEileen, not sure if you meant this as tongue in cheek. To me, the vote is important.... but not worth risking life. The mantra should be always go in pairs... preferably a man and woman.... people seem less frightened to open a door to a man and a woman than to a man or two men. If the hair on the back of your neck is standing up... it is a basic animal self preservation instinct. Obey it. Leave. Come back with an associate.
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