It Takes All Kinds Poem by Pasquale DiMeola

Legless veteran on a wooden scooter
Low ground pallet with squeaking wheels
Slamming the pavement with two stones
In each of his grimy bandaged hands
Amid the rampaging NYC rush hour
Of a congested sidewalk avenue
Spots a former lover from years past
Riding the bustling surf away from him
As he nervously attempts to scuttle nearer
My feminine phantom of nostalgia
Hurriedly stretching their distance apart
Negating any chance of reacquaintance
As she presses lipstick prints on an envelope
Which she casually tosses to the wind
Swallowed out of sight by the shifting crowd
Unaware of that broken hearted soldier
Humming taps as he retrieves the last trace
Of those delicate lips he could still taste.