A man with a story

As I glance across
the oblong table,
I know
you have something,
something to tell.

Will it be a story about the many miles you hiked?
Or about the absurd job the president is doing.
Will you tell me about the time you met your beloved?
Or when you left home to be a hero.

I can see it,
it’s in your tender eyes.
There is little doubt of where you have been.

The creases under your eyes
tell of family,
and the dirt under your nails,
tells of hard work.
The laughter in your voice
tells of happiness,
and the gentleness in your touch
tells of love.

You are a man of many,
a bearer of substance,
a man of wonder,
filling the space that otherwise would remain empty.

Don’t worry.

Don’t think your stories
will go untold.
Today is my turn,
woman with a story.