It’s funny the different people you meet in life who follow a similar routine…walk with me a moment and I’ll tell you what I mean.


Besides the first birds of the morning and the rabbits and other animals I greet along the way…there’s Bob who walks his dog at the same time every day.


There’s the old people sitting on the deck of their assisted living home…I usually count three…old people who are also up early…old people just like me.


There’s Stella, the homeless lady..who, I imagine, has lost her way…there’s the old man in a blue car who waves as he passes me each day.


And then there’s Oscar and Olivia another older couple who always pass me by…who love to do their walking under the moon…or a starlit sky.


I hadn’t seen Oscar and Olivia in a while…until just the other day when I noticed up ahead of me…Oscar walking my way.


“Hey, Oscar!” I asked innocently, “Where is Olivia this fine day?”

Oscar’s head bowed ever so slightly as he told me Olivia had passed away.


“I’m so sorry, Oscar.” I said as my own emotions I couldn’t hide.

“Let me tell you what I told Olivia,” Oscar said, “as I held her hand…the day she died.”


“I told her I’d loved her all my life…II told her never ever to forget…how my love for her was waiting in my heart long before the day we met.”


I told her I hope my love for her has matched all the love for me she’s shown…

I told her how I loved our walks together…and because I have our memories…I will never walk alone…


And I told her not to worry about me…though I’m not sure where…or when…

I have so much love for her that will be waiting…until we meet again…


I still follow my same routine each morning…I say hi to the animals, to Bob and his dog, to Stella, to the old folks…and before I’ve traveled vary far…as if our clocks are synchronized…I wave to the the man in the blue car 


And when I see Oscar coming toward me…as always…out of his way I politely slide…

giving him all the room he needs to pass…with Olivia by his side.

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I walk the same route every morning…from this path I do not stray

because I have so many friends to greet whom I’ve met along the way.


There are the trees that tower to the sky…many, I’m sure, older than me

There’s the crickets and the owls and a host of other animals I hear but do not see.


There are the shifting clouds that are always moving 

from right to left or left to right

There are the flowers waiting for me…the ones that only bloom at night.


There are the toads and the rabbits who dart in and out of the shadows of the moon

Who either stand in one place hiding…or hop away too soon.


There are the churches with their marquis lit

with messages for the mind

There are the oranges painted by a friend

he graciously has left behind.


There are the old folks who live on the corner

the early morning enclave

who, as I round the corner

always smile and wave


There’s the homeless lady who never speaks

but will occasionally smirk

There are the silent streets of a city asleep

there’s the bookstore where I work.


There are the stars that guide me on this walk,

the moon with her occasional grin

There are the silent messages I send to my family

and release upon the wind.


I love this path I’ve chosen

love the friends I greet as on this path I roam

and I love the way this same path

always leads me home.

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