Each day coming home from work
I see this man on the corner.
He waves to the tide of traffic
hunching up against the red light.
He wears the same three piece suit
vest riding high, cuffs tattered
from following too many foot prints.
His shirt no longer white
clings to unmatched buttons.
Hair in disarray, he turns about
waving here an gesturing there
who will never say thank you.
When he is not on the corner
I wonder if he has forgotten us,
or does he think -maybe
we can find our way this day.
--Oscar W., Adult