SIDEWALK ENCOUNTER poem
“Got a light mister?”
you fumbled in my direction, cig
dangling from your lips.
“Don’t smoke,” I said warily.
“Got a quarter for a cup of coffee
then?” you asked.
“What kinds of coffee do you
get for a quarter?” I questioned loudly.
“I’m a Canadian,” you said. “And
I’m not crazy either.”
You took notice of the hard
stare I gave, me dressed in a nice
hat, trousers & jacket, wife
clutching at my arm, nervous
you in ragged clothes, second hand?
I don’t know.
“I’m just standing here bud,
looking at your face.”
rambled, nerves crawling
down my leg.
“Don’t give me no lecture,” you
sneered, green teeth & hair awry,
dangerously close to my face.
Then we stood back from the edge
both glad to be on our way.
© 2007 Richard L. Provencher
first published November 29, 2008
The Dublin Quarterly
International Literary Review