POEM 273: FRIENDLY STRANGER
He held in his hands a drawing pad
put it back in his knapsack
with a sticker that says ‘avoid strangers’
ran into the street with his sandwich
morning breeze caressing his face
there’s an old man with a walking stick
standing by the road, hungry and sick
he turns to boy and stretched his trembling arms
and said “son, just a bite, wouldn’t you do this for me?”
Boy turns around and runs along whistling a nursery rhyme up the hill.
He’s flying down the road rolling like a wandering stone.
Coming down the hill, the lorry couldn’t find her break
boy dashes to the roadside sandwich flung into mud,
scared, boy calls for mum.
But a trembling hand reaches out to him,
old man with a walking stick
standing by the road side, looking sick, helps boy up and said;
“You couldn’t do this for me when hunger knocked me over.
But I would do this for you, because I am a friendly stranger.”