Meeting Stranger Poem by Bill Grace

The former green beret
turned author
talked writing
talked books and self publishing
talked about a gold star father.

I prodded -
I preened -
I offered support.

Never had I intended
to spend a morning
with this man.

God sends us strangers.

Was this man an angel
with the disability
of an arcade?

Was I listening
for God’s whisper
where I did not expect
to hear?

How hard it is
to stop for strangers
with a heart focused
on a million things.