I spent the day on a charter bus,

three seats behind a man

I kept catching at certain

angles,

and he looked just like you.

If I hadn't know any better,

I'd have sworn he was.

If his U. S. Air Force cap had said

U. S. Navy instead.

If he'd been about a foot taller.

If he'd walked with more of

a slump in his back.

But his ears stuck out over the

arms of his glasses, and his white

hair came down to the base

of his neck, and I wanted to

run to him,

but I was stopped by his

mustache, and the squareness

of his face, and those

deep-set eyes when yours were

wide and welcoming.

So I just thanked him

for his service, and then again

in my head because

for a few

sweet hours,

I got to see you again.

I got to love you

from a few rows back.