On Being Given a Ride Across the Ballard Bridge Late at Night

There are many, many chances:
But few opportunities,
Perhaps, to recognize them
As such. Serendipity
Strikes, unlooked-for at times;
Often, though, we must lend
A hand to fate, demonstrate faith
Through our works
So we may eat of their fruit
And by our own, in turn, be known.

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