Getting Home, Safely

I remembered hearing “safety in numbers.”

Though crowded lots made me numb, heard

too much noise, chattering as crows did.

Safety is when I can turn my defense off,

where I don’t need to keep my alerts on.

Publics put me on the fence about why I’m out,

but it’s the natural outings that I’m allured in.

Freedoms of folks are given much latitude

with different definitions of a nasty attitude.

Sure, plenty of fellas provide much gratitude.

However, still, I would prefer my solitude.

Perhaps, my safety is unlike any other.

My safe is the type that’s outnumbered.

In the dead of night, cold of winter,

alone on dirt roads do I feel unbothered.

The thrill of the outdoors gives the feels of a kinder danger.

No other humans but creepy crawlies are so unwilling to murder.

There’s no kind of safety I feel, where wilderness grows further.

Into the dark unknown, only the cold to provide a sweeter hurt there.