Sticks

I walked looking at a stick.

What brittle branch this is to me.

Would I use it for defense, if I were attack?

On the other hand, would I run and leave it behind?

Maybe rocks will serve a greater purpose.

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Two German shepherds stand trained.

I am walking the tracks alone (…by myself).

The two seem to say you had better run little girl.

I was just eight years old then, a youngster.

A fool would have ran with great speed.

However, I want to play a game with fear.

I walk slowly knowing the two knew me.

They came at a trot.

I threw the track rocks.

Listless they fell.

There was a small hill the shepherds had to come up.

When I saw they did not deter, I dashed.

I prejudge the two on the tracks.

The one on the left tore my sock.

I did not stop running until I made it to the Depot.

The two German shepherds went down the hill beside the tracks.

Once at school, I check my left leg.

Only a scratch was there and there is no more to tale.