Today,
I slid down an icy hill
in a van, with two
bald tires.

In that instant I
considered,
for just an instant,
the metaphor therein.

And then,
I thought of all those
people that I know,
you know?

Only come home once
in a great long while.
Though I suppose we
always
(always?)
(Always.)
have that common ground
to stand on,
Or slide down.