PASSING LOOK

A blind man walked into the busy tram
His cane tapped audibly on the wall
Of many a closed mind –

There was an unsteady way he shuffled about
Stumbled, and then clutched the railing
Without letting go of his staff, still swaying

In his other hand three polyethylene bags
Full of his grocery – I tried but
Could not read the look on his calm face.

I hate it when the conversations die,
He must be thinking, I’m thinking
As the whole tram stared at him

But he could not stare back.
Two stops later, he gingerly tapped his way
Out of the tram, his face calm, illegible.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

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