Once in a lifetime.

I place my feet in my shoes, then my shoes in his hands.
Grabbing a rag, he asks casually:
“How is your day going, sir?”
“Fine”, I reply, grabbing a newspaper.
Far easier to ignore him while reading.
He says nothing else, for the duration.
Maybe once in a while,
my eyebrows, they raise.
Some anecdotes stirring some reaction.
All that’s missing is a pipe from my lip,
completing my ensemble.
But let’s just get through this shall we?
“All done sir”, is the last I hear from him.
I place the ground at my feet, and walk away.
I’ve lowered my eyebrow by now though.
We get on with our lives, and never speak again.
I can’t help but feel I’m missing something.


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