Just after dark, two women in their fifties, home from work,
one out to get her mail, the other stretching her legs on the sidewalk
after her drive home — both offer a greeting and a smile —
and I feel like a little boy on a merry-go-round,
turned by fate’s precious little girls —
who kindly do not laugh
at me.
March 3, 2020
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Categories: New Poems & Pieces
Tags: Aging, Child and Man, Diaries, Fate, Journals, Love, Poems, Poetry, Walking
