The Philadelphia Phillies Baseball Cap

At the end of a ho-hum Tuesday,
I snoozed on the commuter rail
after reading a bit;
then gathering my things,
exchanged pleasantries with Henry
who was going on to Rockport.

You met me at the station,
Work-weary, we headed for home. . .
Railroad Avenue . . .
to School Street . . .
then Prospect.

A flash of scarlet
streaked from the right
and you slammed on the brakes
which screamed
in startled compliance.
A bright red Phillies baseball cap
on a not-so-bright-red bike
wobbled in front of the car . . .
only inches to spare.

With heart battering my ribcage
and acid back-splashing my throat,
I leaped from the seat
and ran, jelly-kneed,
to the white-faced boy
standing,
holding his bike
on the other side of the road.
We trembled together
and teared and smiled.

That moment our paths had crossed . . .
safely, thank God.
I wonder what this lad
will make of the life
the bright red Phillies cap
gave him that day.