Winter walking,
Sort of kind of in a hurry,
It’s cold, there’s been a little flurry,
Still, I’m trying not to scurry,
But then it happens,
The slippery sole,
My feet start to lose control,
For a moment I think the slip will pass,
In a millisecond I’m on my ass,
But before I ascertain my fitness,
I check to see if there’s a witness,
And only then, when I’m alone,
Do I check for bruise and broken bone,
And finding none I’m off the floor,
Although a little stiff and sore,
My arm hurts, but is in its socket,
Just wish my work keys weren’t in my pocket.