The Blind Man

looks up as my heart
reaches down –

he sits by the front
door restaurant busy with patrons
too quickly hurrying by

his pencils yellow in brightness
a smile reconciling
the liability of his presence

hoping to squeeze a few quarters
before noon rain
weather man said so.

And I wonder at the quality
of those pencils –
will the lead break easily
how much did he pay for them
and the important one

how did he get in this condition.
Does he have a family
at home with opened arms for dad
and a wife with luscious lips

kisses saved for her man.

I know he sees into my heart
the love for my own family
children waiting with childish giggles
and the innocence
of their young hearts.

We gauge each other for more
moments and I reach down
grasp his shoulder
and call him friend.

© Richard L. Provencher