I met a man yesterday,
Who sat on my porch swing.
He came by late in the evening,
To sell me a security system for my new home.

Slowly swinging, he gazed off,
The sadness hanging on his face briefly vanished,
And a quiet sigh escaped, “I love porch swings.”
Then looking down, he started on his forms.

He had spent the day, I discovered,
Confirming his wife’s cancer diagnosis,
A plague that stole his youngest daughter,
The previous year.

Were tattered shoes a sign of why he worked today,
Or were his needs greater than that?
His hollow voice continued with the story,
As his hands noted the number of window sensors.

I met a man yesterday,
Who reminded me,
To enjoy my porch swing,
Today.