The coffee shop at the end of the block.
An eastern sun through a steam smeared window.
A white-haired woman alone at a small wooden table.
An unsteady newspaper held up to straining eyes.
Footsteps across a hardwood floor.
A blue-sweatered man with an open hand.
Here, try these, they magnify the print, solve the riddles of letters.
Mirrored in the shop window: a faint blush, inquiring smile.
No, please keep them, I know where to find another pair.
Footsteps across a hardwood floor.
A tear on a cheekbone caught with a palm.
In some distant galaxy incense burns.
A planet stops weeping.
Someone comes back to life.
A deed ordinarily unnoticed and rarely celebrated. That you’ve done both
is worthy of affirmation! Thanks, Steve.
Thank you Ike. Lovely words.
a simple beauty…
Thank you Adela.
Not the only one with “a tear on the cheekbone”, Steve. -Millie
Thank you Millie.
Sometimes we don’t even realize our little acts of kindness are so huge when received. Thanks Steve for this gentle reminder in such a sweet way.
I think that’s true. Thank you Len.
And thanks for memorializing that kind deed with this poem – also a kind deed for us who read it!
Thank you Sam.
A little deed of kindness, beautiful word picture Steve.
Thank you Erika.
Your words capture the essence of the world that should make the headlines rather than the ugly noise that usually does.
Thank you Diane.
The white-haired woman by the steamy coffee shop window straining to read – could be me, having forgotten my drug store reading glasses and squinting to clear the blur of the Guardian Weekly’s crossword. The next time that happens, I will keep my (hearing-aided) ears pricked for the sound of footfalls coming my way past the display of croissants and cranberry scones. Maybe it will be my friend, Stephen Berg.
Wonderful! Thank you. And I hope it will be me.