the threat

Did you ever walk a long stone wall,
with old stones slipping from their places,
and find that, as you walked, the stones slipped even more?
Today, I walk a wall like that.

It's cold outside, -12 C. My dogs, with Siberian Husky blood
that should protect them, are nonetheless encircled tight
to conserve their body heat. My cat is nestled in my shadow
to stay warm. My feet are cold.
I work, and think about a man I know.

I read a piece a day ago and praised it thrice.
My praise was met with kind and gracious thanks, it seemed to me.
I shared my comments with another, and stones began to slip.

The author is unknown to me and I to him.
The other knows him, and of course knows me.
Do you follow this at all? And now the threat:
Anonymous, and all in caps: WATCH OUT HEATHER,
the time 12:33 PM (and 3:33 PM and 2:03 AM, too).

I read my threat, then thought a while,
decided I would say: Tsk-tsk, how rude,
apologizing for the minor hijack.

What public word, I wondered, did I say
to cause such anger? Anywhere? With anyone?
None.
So deeper cause supports that threat, and I can think of three.

And mine, a fourth, the only one.
I am a woman who will not take
a threat from anyone.
And so my threat means naught to me.
It's just a curiosity.

This, then, is my long stone wall:
I think about the man I know.
What does he say of this, and has he read it,
and just what is his role here?
Beneath my feet, stones grate against each other
and some may fall.

© h/m/q, Feb 2006