| The Wonderer | |
| 1 | A wonderer can lose his aim |
| if left to wonder long. | |
| Here one such man walks in a park, | |
| his thoughts a jumbled throng. | |
| 5 | He thinks about the men who pass. |
| He plots their varied tales – | |
| from pirates stranded all alone | |
| to businessmen in sales. | |
| A sleepy man lets out a yawn | |
| 10 | His night must have run late |
| A gamer, thief, or bartender? | |
| A driver hauling freight? | |
| A reader bumps the thinking man, | |
| exchanges no regrets, | |
| 15 | and shuffles off to nearby school |
| to rack up endless debt. | |
| “It serves him right for bumping me,” | |
| The wonderer perceives, | |
| for he himself is lawyer, judge, | |
| 20 | and jury naturally. |
| The wond’ring man sits on a bench | |
| to ponder ever more. | |
| Some joggers pass; they wave; he smiles – | |
| to them he looks quite bored. | |
| 25 | But thinking is this man’s great quest, |
| discov’ry is his right. | |
| His thoughts may be disorganized, | |
| not every one is bright. | |
| But private thoughts are private thoughts. | |
| 30 | Who cares what’s in his head? |
| Those joggers wouldn’t stop to talk; | |
| he wouldn’t if they did. | |
| Across the park, another bench | |
| holds a loquacious man | |
| 35 | whose hat and vest and wrinkles deep |
| betray his age advanced. | |
| Two children share the old man’s seat, | |
| their mom stands with their dog. | |
| The old man speaks as all eight eyes | |
| 40 | convey they are enthralled. |
| “I wonder what that old man says.” | |
| The thinker’s head contorts. | |
| “He’s got a captive audience, | |
| a ringmaster of sorts.” | |
| 45 | The wrinkled man just talks and talks. |
| The thinker man then sees | |
| a twinkle in the old man’s eyes, | |
| a knowing glance that flees. | |
| The wonderer, now curious, | |
| 50 | departs his bench of rest |
| to walk on by, to overhear | |
| the knowledge so expressed. | |
| The old man speaks of men he sees, | |
| the thinker hears with stealth. | |
| 55 | “His stories are a lot like mine, |
| but I keep to myself.” | |
| He wanders on and wonders on, | |
| and he’ll return next day | |
| to swim in thoughts, alone, in peace | |
| 60 | with no need to explain. |
November 17, 2014
Ballad of Man 
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