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55th and Pulaski

I almost hit a school girl while turning east
her jean-clad legs and hi-top tenis continued forward in their determined, relaxed, pace

We saw each other through my car door window--
                                                                 the air blew her dark brown hair into a swirl
                                                                 her chest, she held high
                                                                 her hands rested in her navy jacket pockets

I remember stepping into a pair yellow thin lines
in the middle of 79th street, just west of Pulaski Road.
The car-pierced air threatened to push me into the car lane
the air pushed me forward but then jerked me back
but i loved it
i loved it.

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