The Doorman

I pass a doorman daily

When I’m finishing my walk.

He calls out, “How you doing, ma’am?”

But we don’t really talk.

 

Of course, I say good morning

And perhaps a word or two

Is exchanged about the weather;

More than that, we don’t pursue.

 

In December, he went missing,

A replacement at the door.

Was he sick or maybe fired?

Those sweet greetings were no more.

 

Then a week or two ago, voila!

He waited with a smile

And the friendliest hello I’ve heard

In much too long a while.

 

Where’ve you been? I had to ask him

With no explanation owed me

But he grabbed his phone and pictures

Of his newborn daughter showed me.

 

I was touched and wished him all the best

And he was all a’glow

As we shared a special moment

Though our names we do not know.