That Nice Cape
An older man and I cross paths
Each morning when I walk.
For months there was no contact –
Neither nod nor wave nor talk.
Until last week, when all at once
Our glances did connect.
I smiled and then he nodded;
Recognition, I suspect.
For several days we waved hello.
I thought that would suffice,
‘Til yesterday, when he did say,
“That cape of yours is nice.”
My woolen navy cape I wear
On autumn’s chilly days.
With big gold buttons, it attracts
Its share of glimpse and gaze.
My walking pal was one of those
But filed that fact away
Until the ice was broken
And a lead-in came his way.
We never know just what effect
We have when paths align
And for my new acquaintance
I must thank that cape of mine.
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