A Small Gear

Concrete underfoot. Morning air is crisp. Near the base of a public bench, I spotted a tiny brass gear lodged in the gap of a drainage seam. Intricate teeth. Fragile center pin. Urge rose to stomp the seam and crush the metal flat. I paused. Controlled the impulse. I dropped low into a deep crouch. Reached out with two broad fingers, holding back all force. A faint pinch. Slowly lifted the brass wheel free from the grit. Balanced it upright on the flat stone rim of the bench base. Teeth intact. Mechanics sound. Good structure.