sometimes pain gets delivered
like the morning newspaper
thrown on the driveway
chilled by pre-dawn
drops of night
it waits
morning walkers see it
they don’t care
those who sleep
don’t know it’s there
birds sing
they ignore it
cars pass
they miss it
it just waits
until suddenly
daring to reach that far
a hand
with raw nerve stretched
exposed to cold
strains to lift it