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Person

21 Apr

I dreamed I was walking that road
and approaching me was a dirty man
with too many clothes on, carrying a khaki duffel bag.
He looked strong and was muttering to himself.

As we came abreast, I said Good morning
looking him in the eyes
He stopped, and his sweet, acrid aroma
blew over me.

“One,” he said,
and moved on.

 
 

One response to “Person

  1. susanissima

    April 21, 2014 at 1:17 pm

    A tight poem!

     

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