The Forever Man
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*
*
I knew a man without a name.
He walked the streets of everywhere.
At dawn, at twilight, and later
his soles unpolished pattered on roads,
in alleys,
under eaves rotten with neglect,
beyond gates silver and gold.
He knew my name
but his, I only guessed.
*
The people in whose shadow
he trailed
looked upon him in dismay,
the children with wonder,
and the world-weary with aching delight.
The lamps, whose lights fluttered in his passing
told not whether he smiled
or whether his face was many
or only one.
*
Everywhere, I saw him.
On ships, walking the prow.
In church, standing silent
as the poor bent a knee beside kings.
Strolling beside farmers’ ploughs.
Waving his pallid fingers
above cribs.
*
Everywhere, I saw him.
‘Neath his hat, beaded by rain,
stirred no worldly gaze.
His strides, measured always
to match his chosen ward.
His shoulders, heavy with a timeless suit
made of shadow,
looked the same to me
whether in sunlight
or gilded by the moon.
*
One day, I came to him.
Was it a fever I had?
Or exhaustion in my bones?
Or had I struck the first of many nails?
I could not remember.
I spoke to him,
at him
through him.
And he told me,
“Today is not your day.
“Nor tomorrow.
“Look for me no longer.
“And find me later than you expect.”
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J Edward Neill
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