A poem for you, if you’ve been through it too.

Photo by Mel Poole on Unsplash

He reaches in
to shake
my hand,

like a crow
extending a claw
might snatch a nut

to carry away
and drop
on the pavement
for the cars
to smash.

And as he lets it go,
he locks his black eyes onto mine,
and backs

as he calculates