the Truant and the Quitter

an oldie, also written in cold days...riding the bus all the long way across the city


i saw you in the morning
huddled against the crowd and the cold
squinting into the light
breathing fog and steam

you looked straight at me, but didn't know me
didn't remember our time together.

how we sweated
how we ached
how we fought

only recognizing that my gaze lingered on your face
a little longer than was comfortable
you turned away.

on the crowded bus
we are two strangers with a history

truants and quitters
dereliction is our bond.

and i am the only one here who knows your secret.

...

your Kung Fu is weak, sir.