Kevin Carlson


Strangers

Slightly smiling, the man in the hat walked my way
with a mood reminiscing of tears;
(a peculiar chap - he's a stranger at heart
though his friends have all known him for years.)

He sat on the bench, saying nothing to say
feeding crumbs to the pigeon and quail;
And while sitting, his form was a statue -
his coat, a house built without hammer or nail.

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