Murder she wrote

Gloomy overcast morning,

you daydream Angela Langsbury

walking her dog in the park across the street.

She calls out and waves.

You call back frantically

you are too young to die

and to stay on her side of the street.

As she walks away; you call out,

“…and don’t forget to scoop,”

rise from your chair and hurry inside.

A car veers out of control into your yard

and destroys your favorite chair.

11-6-22