The elder of our tiny neighborhood cycled by just
In time for neither of us to know who said what
But then it doesn’t really matter, does it, as we’re
On our way to somewhere, but now that you ask,
I’m not even sure where we thought we were
Headed, but certainly headed somewhere, you
In your fancy white new outfit, me in a pair of
Dark pants and pink shirt, off to a meal to share
With someone, though we still don’t know who
That might be, or how well the night will go.
But isn’t that pretty much how it goes most
Of the time we set out on a drive to go somewhere
Even if we don’t know exactly when we’ll arrive,
Or even leave, or worse, not ever arriving back
Where we started this evening when the old
One down the road waved us by, and the
Two of us barely had enough time to look up
To see who it was that was kind enough to
Wish us a simple hello, but then, none of us
Expected to sit down on the curb and hear
About all the tsuris passing through each one
And for the most part, it’s probably better
To just keep on moving, trying not to stop
To figure what in the world just happened
That will make our tiny lives even more
Miserable than they were yesterday, but
Somehow that’s the pulse most of us have
These days, pushing the old misery back
As far as we humanly can, and hoping a
Friendly voice who doesn’t expect anything
In return, lifts a voice that’s barely there
Anymore as she pedals away on our old road
Lifting her wobbly arm once again, but now
She’s fading into the end of day and then
You ask who was that O she’s down the road
She lost her husband a few years ago even so
We see her fading away in the evening light
Almost gone, hearing in the distant something
With a wave and a sweet echo of Hello There.
“Hello There” is reprinted from Hello There with permission of the author.
