And we've got our first contestant!
Chicken
As in the movies when the traffic swerves
and skids to miss the hero in its way,
he ran among the cars as if to play
a game of chicken with his mothers nerves;
She wept to see him standing there across
the other side, her perfect, smiling boy,
all rosy-cheeked with death defying joy,
an icon of her momentary loss.
It wasn`t quite a miracle: not quite,
but close. Not Lazarus, or snake and rod,
or water into wine. But who`s to say?
She held him up just like an acolyte
would make an offering and thanking God
fell down upon her knees as if to pray.
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