The Real You
On my early morning walks
I dress in workout clothes,
A baseball cap and old wire specs,
For comfort, I suppose.
I pass some people every day
Yet there are just a few
With whom I share a smile or wave;
Of names, I have no clue.
They must live in the neighborhood,
But never do we meet
Except for when we exercise;
Today, though on the street
I passed a walking “friend”
And recognition went both ways.
We laughed and then she said,
“It’s the real you!” and, in her gaze,
I understood just what she meant.
With earrings, clogs and jeans
And round blue glasses, I look different
From our morning scenes.
Of course, she, too, looked different
But I’m glad we could reveal
To each other that persona
That the world would see as “real.”
Copyright © Ilene Bauer | Year Posted 2023
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