Dam the Dew

Dam the dew on the road

The dew on the road that

Made my tire slide from under

Me. The tire slid and I did too

On my hip and gloved hands

I could be glad it was not only dew

The dew on the road lifting the oily

Residue that was so slippy

No torn cloth or scrapes but a bruise

The color of, okay I’ll say it, grapes

After nursing my pride I took

That turn of dew and fearfully

Slowed to stay upright

And now each time I dread to pass

Even moderately slow

Dam that dew on the road.

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