Enjoying breakfast at noon in Denny's restaurant,
eating, glancing up in time to see a tall man with
a Bluejay's tee-shirt on.
His presence was austere, silently commanding, as
this guest stood momentarily before sitting down
at a booth.
Asking my husband who are the bluejays? I've never
heard of them!
Replying he says, 'I think they're a baseball team,
why? '
Telling him what I observed, then our conversation
went back to eating breakfast.
Just this little poem as a memento, to a stranger I
happened to see across the restaurant.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem