on the occaision

there used to be this man.
this man when i would walk to work in the spring time...
he worked across the street from where i live and i would pass him often.
i wouldnt see him everyday, but often enough to where we developed a recognition of one another.

so this man,
as he was doing whatever he did outdoors at 8 am on the springtime weekdays,
would say good morning in such a polite manner,
would smile,
and just as i passed would whisper under his breath,
"beautiful".

and he did this more than once.
he may have done it three or four times to the point that he knew i heard him and he was communicating with me in a strange diluted way.

so at first i thought it sweet, odd, but sweet...then it got to the point where i began to appreciate his words, his smile, his respect.
he was gentle
and seemed kind.

thing is...you would have never expected him to be.
he was a big guy, shaved head, maybe some facial hair,
he would wear black Sepultura hoodies and maybe rock a piercing or two.

someone i would have hung out with when i was in high school, someone who grew up trying to be dave mustane or kirk hammet or dimebag daryl. someone i might have gotten high with, gotten drunk with, started a band with, smoked cigarettes behind the church with.
so it was comforting, in its own unique way.

anyways, i miss that man in the wintertime,
and all the time
that i see this time
as it passes
and flashes
memories become the reality
there is no time to consider the present
because in the event
that presence is misconstrued
or removed
it becomes apparent
there is no room
for moments
that lack
truth.

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