His Name Is Richard
His name is Richard and he walks the land
Plastic bags and umbrella in hand
I've passed him by a thousand times
He'd always wave with hand held high
Long haired curls of peppered gray
A bearded face and aging frame
Years of miles beneath his feet
I wondered where he keeps his seat
He's always walking, on the go
From where to where I do not know
He's like the trees along the way
He's like the deer I saw today
His image is emblazoned on
The country roads and neighbors lawns
You might see him in the morn
Just wave your hand and blow your horn
Or maybe 'neath the twilight sky
When driving home, you'll pass him by
But lately there's a different air
I've not, so often, seen him there
Until today when I left home
To go to town to shop and roam
I passed him with his thumb held high
Instead of hand, I wondered why
So I turned around and headed back
I had to know. I had to ask
I let him in and gave him ride
And that was when he did confide
He'd had a stroke five months ago
But he was getting better though
He said he lived with friends who care
And helped him heal while he was there
He spoke of how he loved to walk
To breathe the air and stop to talk
To count the posts of neighbors fence
Watch birds and bees do natures dance
If thunder rolled, then let it be
It's just another pleseantry
I listened as we rode along
His tale was almost like a song
And when we reached our destiny
Before he left, he said to me
"My name's Richard. Thanks my friend"
He smiled and he shook my hand
He then stepped out and closed the door
And headed off into the store
As I returned along my way
I pondered what I learned that day
How people can seem common place
Until you put their name to face
A stranger then becomes a friend
Where journeys start and journeys end
Rockman :-)
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