I veer to the mailboxes watching the figure turn red
Looking ahead, they’re
Are you following me?
Startled, plastic bags filled with food in hand
glasses broken, undone hair, covered expression.
I’m trying to cross the street.
Scoff of disbelief, hair flip
I walk quickly away afraid of the other eyes
Watching as I scramble away.
Did it look like I was following?
I was walking fast,
I just needed to get to my car,
I do look ragged,
They didn’t believe me
Have I ever done this to someone else?
Not with words but with furtive gazes
When they just were walking or crossing the street.
Key is in the imagination
Let’s just eat my food.