the one kind face
every two minutes in the backroom
of the coffeehouse the old man
asks anyone who will listen
what time it is every two minutes
exactly for twenty as one by one
people begin to ignore him except
the young man absorbed in a book
who every two minutes lifts his head
looks into the questioner’s eyes
as if he has always known him
5 thoughts on "the one kind face"
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One kind face – hope in the midst of a busy, troubled world. Good poem.
…oh no, I think that was me in the Poezia room at Common Grounds…uh, really; what time it is?
I love short poems that immediately engage you, take seconds to read and leave you thinking for minutes. I’ll bet you are a kind face also
Good poem!
How kind, and you captured it.