Martyrs

They stand waiting
The time for them is now
It is always their time
They glance up and down the sidewalk, patting down tufts of stray hairs and jamming hands down pockets
With a sidestep and crackle of pebbles, they set off down the way
They speak without whispering, they have nothing to hide from anyone
Tales of past nights of adventure, conquests, the trials of life and love
One chews loudly on handfuls of peanuts, each laugh spewing shrapnel
Like his laugh were so hearty it had coalesced into little brown pieces
They all smile
Breaking to the left into an alley, they withdraw hands from pockets
They are not scared, but prepared nonetheless
Unspoken but ready for the faceless dangers
I follow behind them, skipping a few steps at a time to keep up
Their gait outpaces me easily, as I run every few steps to keep up with them
I feel like I will never catch up
They will never slow down

The headlights flash ahead of me
It comes barreling down at us
I freeze in spot as they yell to me to run
They have already gotten to the side but I am trapped
It must have seemed like a good idea to each of them
As they each simultaneously dove out to push me out of the way
I tumbled away as they replaced me
Each one of them
They stood there smiling to me
As the car overtook them

This is a dedication to those who would do something
When so many would do nothing
Even when it is in fact the smart thing to do
This is a dedication to those who are compassion incarnate