Green

i saw him in the dark last night
walking up the road;
he was wearing dark, dark green
i could tell by the sheen t’was cast
coming off the crescent  moon;
with his hat down on his forehead
i couldn’t see his eyes;
he walked with a slight limp,
yet he carried not a cane;

it was strange he walked here
on these roads with modest homes
of the small town not far but still
a good way from the city
from whence he obviously came;

he turned and cocked his head
toward me sitting on my porch;
i raised my left hand in greeting;
he nodded, saying not a word,
then turned his head straight away
continuing on his way;
i watched as he continued on
until he vanished from my sight;

now i often think about him
when i sit on my porch at night:
he just seemed so familiar
though i had seen him ne’er before;
i wish that we had spoken
so i could have learned a thing or two;
he’s gone; i fear he shan’t come back
around this way e’er again;
i wonder where he’s gone
as the crescent moon fades
behind a dark green cloud.

One thought on “Green

  1. I’m still reading your book. Most specifically when i’m down because they make me feel good. Thank you for that too Jim.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *