person walking with puppy near trees
Byron Hoot

He never looks in my direction 
as I slow down when he and his
dog are on the road.
His first choice -- look away,
don't make eye contact.

Twice, looking into the eyes of others,
he watched one then the other slip away:
his parents first, then the woman he loved.
He'd seen enough.

He has a blueberry farm; he wears sun
glasses, makes change, mumbles 
a conversation,says,
"Come back!" no longer 
knowing who he's calling to.