Long haired
Dirty, and bare footed
Observer be the judge

Treading lightly
Down a gravel road
Solitude finding

Come passerby
A truck, probably hick
Moving by, but
A U turn quick

Within my hidden place
It comes to my mind
“Put on the hat”
“It is time”

Backtracking now
Who is my protecter
Close enough now
The inspector

“Make Orwell Fiction Again”
The eyes a little cross
Passing as a ship in port
I wonder at my loss

Was this man a danger
Or is the danger me
I judged him
Believing he judged me

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