A Poem A Week #31

Your Story

Dear old man that I pass
On the trail
At exactly 7:45am
Every morning…
Who are you?
And what is your story?
You seem like someone
Who might have fought a war.
Vietnam, perhaps?
When we cross paths,
With a smile
And a “Good morning,”
(I can’t imagine you hear mine;
You’re always wearing headphones.
What are you listening to?)
Sometimes
I want to stop you
And ask you for your story.
But the two small dogs
Pulling on my arms
Would never allow that.
Perhaps you wonder
The same thoughts of me.
Who is this young fresh-face?
What did she possibly achieve
To arrive in such a place?
Truth is, I’ve achieved nothing.
My story…I’d rather hear
Your story.
Then, perhaps,
I can add something to mine.

Catherine Joy

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