Two Men

One flying home in his blind rush,

Agendas whirling,
Time demanding,
Wheel in hand,

Thinking of lunch and after,

Work, football, family, obligations,

Weary with the constant press.

One limping along with one concern,

Eating something,

A next meal's hope

Balanced now atop a makeshift cart,

Once a baby carriage,

Piled high with cans,

Weary of the day-to-day nothing.

One glancing in a rearview mirror,

Then into tired, empty eyes,

Catches sight of the canner

With his limp and

His valiant struggle to right His load,

Considers their common burden.

One surprised by the car,

The lowered window, the offer,

"Mister, can I buy your cans?"

Of course, where should I put them?

A cash exchange, a brief moment of

Human contact to lift a burden,

A tear in the eye of each.

Two men,
A few words, smiles,
A small amount of cash,
Exchanged together with connection,
Without obligation;
Pure concern, pure gratitude,
Relief for both.