The Stranger
“Walk this way.”
Said the old man, with a hardwood cane.
“I don’t have a limp? I can not match your step, Sir.”
The young man replied in earnest.
“Are you poking fun at me? Junior “man”, yet to be?”
“No elder, Sir. You, have to see…
I am here to learn and we… (circling his hand to include them both)
You teach of times, now lost to me,
And play the music that sets all free.
It is much like a waltz in time, plus one then out.
Three legs like a stool, but “clever” not a fool.
I respect you, friend, your years of long measure.
All that you offer, every word, every treasure.
The old man gazed, hard at the youth,
It was ominous and clear, an incredible truth.
The man before him, toe to toe
Was a man, a real man in the know.
Putting "value" on the past
Maybe this man won’t be the last?
Copyright © Ann Foster | Year Posted 2019
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