After my hair turned white
and had entered my 7th decade,
I took a fall on my bike.
Landed in the middle
of a residential street
where concerned citizens
including a few children
rushed to me
to get a close look
at my bruised ego. 

Overwhelmed 
by substantial kindness,
I knew–
the troops arrived
because I was a little old lady.

I declined offers to haul
me and my bike home, 
so they helped me up,
made sure I could walk
and talk,
then lined
the street to watch me
pedal away
bravely
on the red carpet.

All I wanted
was a warm bath
and ibuprofen.