A weary traveler, he had turned into an elderly walker.
Quiet, unassuming, yet refined with his thrift store shoes.
And, mindful with midnight strolls.
Never tongue tied.
When we had become one…along with many a collection of souls…
to know what I did not know.
The manner in which the elderly walker skipped and limped with impunity.
The gale force gait that entwined his grumpy smile.
His gesturing hands that informed those passing by…we can be free…we are not all that we have been told.