The Man In His Chair

Friday, June 28^th, 2013

There’s an old man on my street who I forever find sitting in the same chair outside of his house. His chair. I pass by several times a day as I come and go. The first few times I saw him I’d say ‘Hello! Good morning! How are you?’ yet I’d receive no answer. Just stares.

This poem arose from that.

The man in his chair

Everytime I pass him I say “Avujeni”

“Good Morning”

He just stares.

“Mijani”

“How are you?”

Stares

Every day I continue to greet him

His silence will not stop me.

Soon he slowly starts to weakly wave back

Soon I hear a faint “Hello.”

I saw him at church on Sunday.

I finally shook the hand that waves at me everyday

I asked him name but I did not hear it.

I just smiled as church songs were sung loudly behind us.

We both understand.