How Do You Greet a Friendly Stranger?
Bus In San Francisco
A Shocking Reply
On her way to work each morn,
mother rode the bus.
And on her way to the place
where her bus would stop,
She met eachday a woman
who was walking the other way.
As weeks passed by, my Mother thought,
"I see this lady every day,"
"Her presence
in my face, and yet
I've not acknowledged her,"
"Whatever
must
she think?"
And so, next day,
at the time they met,
Mother paused, and spoke:
"Good morning."
Surprised, my mother was
when instead of like reply,
This stranger stopped--
looked Mother up and down,
Retorted, shocked, "Good Morning??!!??
Who the hell are you??!!"
Did That Stranger Perceive My Mother Thus:
About This Poem
My mother told this story a few times. She thought it was funny. I think I would have been offended, or at least, taken aback. Perhaps I'd have made some smart retort.
In any case, it was mother's story to tell, and not mine. I first set this tale to paper back in June of 1988, revised it some in June of 2010, and again in March of 2018.
None of the revisions were major; just some tidying up of the phrasing.
© 2010 Liz Elias
