
It seemed innocent enough
To wave at the man in the pick-up truck coming the other way
Even though I had no idea who he was
It’s just what we do out here in the country
Our small town
You wave
And he waved back
Isn’t is ironic that the man was on his way to a job
In order to feed his family
Ironic, indeed
That the man I shared a moment of innocent pleasantries with
Was a man contracted to kill me?