The Friendly Fruit Man

The friendly fruit man smiled at me,
His usual routine,
Despite the dripping drizzle
Dampening the morning scene.

A dozen other vendors
Stood impassive, getting wet,
But not the friendly fruit man –
He’s not missed a smile yet.

I wonder at his happy moods –
His day is very long,
With hours spent upon his feet
And, though I could be wrong,

He likely travels from afar
To reach his special spot,
A corner near the hospital,
To sell the fruit he’s got.

So many folks, including me,
Find reasons to complain,
But not the friendly fruit man,
Smiling even in the rain.