Been walkinga path leading to this guy.Been visitingevery day, talking out troubles.Been wonderingwhat I’d do if he talked back,but he hasn’t, so far.He’s been listeningwithout dispensing advice.That’s valuable, you know,finding someone who hears youand actually listens.Been thinkingif reason flew by on bird wings,I might miss it in this place.If hope unfolded in a fiddlehead,it would be trampled underfoot.If tomorrow rose like the sun,right in the middle of this path,I’d be too busy holding my headin concert with this guy to notice.
![]() |
photo by Marian Kent |
Happy Monday! This is #10 of 30 Poems in November to benefit Center for New Americans.