I saw a man walking
and as I passed him
in the misting rain,
I felt his aching bones.
I saw a man walking
as his cane brushed
against the clean evergreens
and became my bike.
I saw a man walking
and as I nodded to him
my head became his head
and I felt the pain of age.
I saw a man walking
through the forest as
he texted a friend,
tapping his hands on his cane.
I saw a man walking,
tripping, falling, and
felt his pain in my own legs,
and cried at his broken cane.
