By The By
I see a good man behind his mother
by Patrick Foltz
On the sidewalk; he is an outstretched
Arm in his mother's hand, keeping up and
Watching the slow passers-by.
I see a good man carrying books
To his class; he holds them close
Against the wind and the cold
As he weaves through the slow passers-by.
I see a good man look to his watch
As he steps from the ledge of the curb.
He quickens his pace and looks to his side
To the faces of slow passers-by.
I see a good man who is losing to age
And whose shadow now bends fore
He pauses to rest in the midst of his walk
In the walkway of those passing by.
I see a good man who wished to be great
To add of his own to the world.
I see those around him, who loved him,
Who mourn him, and I, who but see him, know why.