Michael Shepherd - 0219 People people

Описание

It must be fun - or so I'd like to think - doing a 'people' job, if that's what you really like to do; like being a born bright barman in a not-too-busy bar where everyone you meet's a challenge of some sort - to spark the eyes of strangers, or to plumb the depths of lonely mind and heart; and postman, on a regular morning round - not the early one who drops through blank, closed doors of houses where only the dog's awake, and finger-hungry; but the one who has the parcels, has to knock, and meets you face to face; and meets your gratitude, maybe your full-on smile... but now, the latest guy (where do the happy ones all go?) - he's really weird. He must know by now that I'm eager for his ring, because that means another poetry book; and yet when I unleash unshaven joy and greet him like a friend I've really missed, he hands me the parcel with his face turned full ninety degrees to the right, as if my smile, my breath, bears loathsome foul disease, or as if in some shared past, I'd done him some unpardonable hurt. I sometimes wonder if he has some history of abuse, and now he's scared to meet anyone who might be kind to him... What a pity that he'll never meet Mr Weekly Organic Veg who's born to live in joy, it seems, whose smile is larger than his face, whose eyes are shining with a friendship that's unqualified, and who reminds me in five seconds flat what life's all about. Michael Shepherd poemhunter.com/poem/0219-people-people/