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The Weight
by Charlie Morgan The Weight
He was carrying a heavy load,
it was hidden, but I could see it.
Passing by, walking tractor-slow,
his eyes looked like Toledo scales.
They needled the red zone.
I wanted to help him with the weight.
His eyes wanted to ask me to,
but he blinked—and shut off their plea.
He was in my view a momentÂ’s lifetime;
then I blinked.
The second hand of my Rolex circled once,
I blinked again and he was past.
But his eyes left some of the weight on me
as his lips cracked a wanton, baby grin.
And now, now I carry some of it,
just enough to make me want to cry.
04/26/2003 Posted on 04/26/2003
Copyright © 2025 Charlie Morgan
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