Tuesday, October 1, 2013


The most beautiful man lives just down the street,
In a red madras shirt and no shoes on his feet.
I find him there when my dogs lurch after his -
A small ball of fur that seems larger than he is.
I used to apologize for my dogs (like a mother)
But we’re used to the dance and now greet each other.
“How are you?” he bellows above his dog’s yelps.
“I’m well, thank God!” I say, and then nothing else.
Such a simple exchange is not too much to see,
But he glows when he smiles and nods at me.   

I have grown to look forward to this part of my day -
The man is always there when I walk by that way.
I would have once thought he had nothing to do –
Holed up in his garage and smoking a few…
His solid white hair and his wheelchair betray-
Why this beautiful man is un-rushed in his day.
While the rest of the world hurries, laments and gives way-

He reminds me to slow down my day.  

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