An Anxious Man at a Party

The dawning of the New Year,

the dropping of the ball -

the countdown leads to revelry

as it begins to fall.

At this party is a man

mired by a lack of confidence;

meek and mild-mannered,

he goes unnoticed without consequence.

And so his gaze shifts towards the earth

and to the feet of passersby.

He turns to clues upon their shoes

to ascertain their lives:

’There’s a pair of working boots,

endowed with mud and grime.

Working days are dreadfully long,

so he appreciates good times.'

'A pair of heels strut past,

her date has a lot of money.

She laughs at all his jokes,

but they’re painfully unfunny.’

You see, these observations

are a ritual of sorts.

Diffidence,

he cannot look upon the eyes of his cohorts.

This man sips his beer in solitude,

out of fear of being noticed.

His only solace rests within

the shoes that claim his focus.

He takes notice of the details,

deduces the paths on which they walk -

it’s his way of meeting people,

for he lacks the strength to talk:

’A pair of crocs go stomping by,

she’s cursing up a storm.

Across the floor and out the door;

tale of a woman scorned.'

'The sight of sneakers stumbling by

in swerving steps of stupor…’

They stop and pivot towards the man,

“I was wondering where you were!”

The man recoils, taken aback,

with the strength that he can muster,

he breathes in deep and takes the leap

and he turns his gaze on upward.

The face he’s met with wears a smile,

and calls him by his name.

That look brings equanimity

and washes away shame.

At last, he sees the festival

of color and excitement.

An extension of acknowledgement

made the present moment vibrant.