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.