I told my neighbor I know a poet who looks like him,
Same cheeks, same hair, same nose, same grin
Had different eyes but the very same skin,
And words oh the words,
that's where the real difference begins.
I told my neighbor who reminded me of him,
that he took me back to the words of his poems,
how in his face I saw stories of another,
I told him that they could have been brothers.
I asked him if he was a poet,
he smiled the grin I thought I knew,
and replied "no".
Every time I see my neighbor,
I see words that are not his
and I have to remember
that similarities do not make the man,
but their words surely do.
SK
