I once met a man on the street and
In an explosion of light
He gave me a smile,
Some humor,
And a piece of advice
That stuck with me forever
As my beacon in life.
.
I would see that man at the grocery store and
There would always be somebody in front of him
Who’d lost their food stamps
Or was trying to use faulty coupons.
.
But he’d never yell at the customer and
He’d look over and see me and say,
Hey,
Almost with that whole bath of light he’d wielded on the street.
.
I would see that man
At the movie theater,
Seeing bad movies and
Always stepping on pieces of gum
That had been thrown into the aisle.
.
He wouldn’t notice me in the theater.
.
I would see that man getting his car fixed and
Always have to get a new replacement part
Because they couldn’t fix it and
Couldn’t find one used.
.
He never got mad at the mechanics and
He would see me out of his peripheral vision
While scowling and sweating
And he wouldn’t say “Hey,”
But I could tell he was embracing me in his own way,
I could tell he held out a little light for me.
.
I could see it in his skin.
.
I could see it in the past.
.
I would see that man,
When we got older,
Bringing coupons into Arby’s
And paying the cashier with pennies and nickels and
He would see me and not recognize me,
Smiling at me with greyed, addled eyes
That poured a trace amount of light out of them
So small that you’d have never known it was in there.
.
But I saw it.
.
I saw it in the past and I remembered that man.
.
And I would see that man in the newspaper,
Deceased, divorced from his wife,
Leaving two kids who live in town and
Enjoyed going to the movies and
Eating in restaurants
.
And I would sit back and marvel
And bask in the glow
Of the beautiful life he had lived
And how it had touched me.