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All day, since your haircut in the morning, |
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you have looked like a painting, even more than usual. |
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We are in the wind, planting the maples. |
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We meet an older man who seems to know |
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I miss my dad. |
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And he smiles through the limbs. |
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We talk easily with him |
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until the rain begins. |
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This is the brotherhood of man. |
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Waiting at the airport on my suitcase, |
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a girl traveling from Spain became my sudden friend, |
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though I did not learn her name. |
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And when the subway dimmed |
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a stranger lit my way. |
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This is the brotherhood of man. |
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I never can say what I mean |
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but you will understand, |
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coming through clouds on the way. |
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This is the brotherhood of man. |
