On Guard

Imagine your wife,
Fragile at fifty,
Walking to work,
In morning dark.

Passing the first,
Road Closed in bold letters,
Skirting the next,
Broken twigs at its base,
Edging the blind,
A curve with no sidewalk,
Spotting the last,
A barricade of net.

Plenty of obstacles,
To clear the street vacant,
Commuters; however,
Despise the City’s signs,
Setting up a challenge,
Daily to champion,
The barrier barring,
Them from harrying her.

Vigilantly each day,
I drag back the blockade,
Shoved down by some driver,
Entitled to ignore.
Devotion and disdain,
Both bring me to battle,
Perpetrating a duel,
The feet against the wheel.

All to win her,
A few more moments,
To round the bend,
Become visible again.