Ankle High Boots

by Kristina Woodhill

he's that odd character in your book
that turns up often
just out of the corner of your eye
in a certain part of town
disturbingly predictable
in a small city of 81,000
never a word heard
no wild gestures
calm clothes
peaceful demeanor
but flowing in that little side stream
apart from our main river

slight, slim, shoulder length curly hair
surely barely middle aged
eyes that give away with each flicker
that too much was given
or too much was taken
seeing but not seeing our whole picture
part of his frame missing

he walks where we ride
across broad Caldwell Boulevard
down by Les Schwab's Tires
into Winco's grocery the other day
wearing cool new hiking boots
holding that new boot box
tight against his side
not pushing a shopping cart
more just passing through
to share his new purchase
brush up against the crowds

when storms find us pacing
our old defunct mall
he is wandering inside, alone
gently idle, a glance here
a turn around, a walk back
a short sit on the bench
and you realize when you leave
that you always look for him
expect his constancy
hope that his days are full


Posted on 05/23/2014
Copyright © 2020 Kristina Woodhill

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 05/23/14 at 07:34 PM

Fascinating character, Kristine. Unique, and yet I think every city has one or more of a similar vein. Superb descriptiveness also.

Posted by George Hoerner on 05/24/14 at 01:05 PM

A very nostalgic write very well done lady.

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