NaPoWriMo: Day 21

Mugged

Here they come
spattering across autumn
puddled pavement,
not anticipated.
Geet crash down
bus station pathways,
I turn a moment too late.

When they punch,
it's like people describe explosions,
you know it's happened
but the pain
that comes later.

I never see their faces
never hear their voices.

I lie bleeding on the floor,
and
there
they
go.