(Me) (Myself) and I – A Poem

When I got

on the bus,

there wasn’t anywhere

to sit. I

had to stand.

I held on

to the pole

in front of

me, feeling the

bus move and

shift around me.

I marvelled that

I could do

such a thing,

something as simple

as riding a

bus standing up,

when a year

ago, I wouldn’t

have been able

to do so.

I noticed a

man sitting down

on a seat

to my right.

He held a

cane between his

legs. He caught

me staring and

smiled at me.

“You look like you have something to be happy about.”

I tried to

look respectful, hoping

he would forgive

my obvious rudeness

“I’m sorry. It’s just that I used to walk with a cane.”

He nodded, as

if he had

expected this response.

“What was yours named?”

“Hugo.”

I said, letting

the word out

in a breath

of soft air.

“Mine too.”

He said. He

held up his

cane and I

saw the brand

name stamped there.

“Why think of a better name when it already has one, right?”

“Right.”

I said, smiling.

He gave me

a serious look

and when he

spoke again, it

was like the

air around him

began to shimmer.

“Never be sorry for your strength. For what you’ve been able to accomplish.”

He said. He

shrugged and gave

me a smile

that I recognized

because I had

worn it. I

looked at his

face, really looked

at it and

something clicked within

me, I reached

to touch him,

to touch myself,

for he wore

my own face,

had my eyes.

He was me

as I had

been over a

year (lifetime) ago.

Me, myself

and I began

to fade away.

I wondered if

he (if I)

had been riding

the bus this

whole time, if

I had left

behind a piece

of myself. As

I thought this,

he reached out

and dropped a

small blue pebble

into my hand

“Here. You forgot this. It’s time you took it back. Don’t look back, though. Only go forward.”

“What is this? What do I do with it?”

He (I?) smiled

and gave me

a kind look.

“It’s a seed from where you used to be.”

“What do I do with it?”

He (myself?) gave

me another deep

smile, almost chuckling.

“You plant it, silly. Watch it grow. Make something wonderful out of what was. Don’t look back, only forward.”

He (me?) faded

away completely and

I was left

holding a piece

of myself that

I had forgotten.

I had not recognized

what I had

been, but I knew

who I had

become. I would

follow the advice

that I (me?)

had given myself.

I would plant

the seed and,

as it grew,

so would (me)

(myself) I.