Poem by Jim Mann
Featuring the artwork of David W. Reed III
The Weary Traveler
Half past eleven, minutes pass into hours
As if this moment were to last for a lifetime
The hustled movement of the day past
And night is upon us.
The weary traveler sits eyes straight ahead
Lifeless waiting hands cradle a weather worn cheek
Hat pulled down to hide the lack of care
Wrapped in a old scarf to keep off the night chill
Where has this traveler gone in her mind
What tales of woe hide deep within
Lips turned downward and a hint of sadness in weaken eyes
And still she waits.