Legend

He sat with his back leaned against a stone wall,
His thoughts on a far distant sky.
He'd blown into town, like a dark winter night,
With a deep, haunted look in his eye.

Young women watched him as they sauntered by.
To them, he seemed totally blind.
Try as they might to make him look twice,
They weren't what he'd hoped to find.

Night shadows fell and he finally rose,
Sauntering down the main street
With only the sound of his worn, leather boots
On the pavement stretched under his feet.

He knocked on a door and slipped quickly inside
As a voice whispered out of the dark.
Then all became silent. The night shadows grew
As the moments remained with no mark.

Such are the moments in life, my friend.
Unnoticed they're silent and fade.
Yet, one single moment noted and told
As a legend is history made.

© 2002 Pam H. Murray

May 2, 2002