The Doorman

I pass a doorman daily When I’m finishing my walk. He calls out, “How you doing, ma’am?” But we don’t really talk. Of course, I say good morning And perhaps a word or two Is exchanged about the weather; More than that, we don’t pursue. In December, he went missing, A replacement at the door. Was he sick or maybe fired? Those sweet greetings were no more. Then a week or two ago, voila! He waited with a smile And the friendliest hello I’ve heard In much too long a while. Where’ve you been? I had to ask him With no explanation owed me But he grabbed his phone and pictures Of his newborn daughter showed me. I was touched and wished him all the best And he was all a’glow As we shared a special moment Though our names we do not know.