Avoidance Byron Hoot He never looks in my direction as I slow down when he and his dog are on the road. His first choice -- look away, don't make eye contact. Twice, looking into the eyes of others, he watched one then the other slip away: his parents first, then the woman he loved. He'd seen enough. He has a blueberry farm; he wears sun glasses, makes change, mumbles a conversation,says, "Come back!" no longer knowing who he's calling to.
![person walking with puppy near trees](https://i0.wp.com/hootnhowlpoetry.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/02/pexels-photo-1587242.jpeg?fit=1880%2C1253&ssl=1)