Because we all want to write more poems.
Walkers
Regardless of the weather,
They walked the same walk
For forty years, from the same
Small office on the second floor
Of the same building, on the
Same corner, in the same city.
Each day down the stairs to
The same street about four
Blocks to the same coffee house
That had the same coffee to go
With sugar and half and half,
A remnant of having been born
In a small town in rural Ohio.
Perhaps the sugar, the half
And half helped to explain
A stout sidewalk shadow
Against the morning sun.
His constant companion,
Tall, dark, angular in the
Inimitable black beret matched
To black shoes, black pants,
Black shirt, black jacket.
The black cane raps the walk
In exclamation over something
Said along the well worn way.
They patiently wait as they
Have for the last forty years,
As they will wait into eternity.
- Clayton Medeiros's Shared Poems
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