Taxi Ride

You can’t anticipate who or how the driver will be

Someone quiet or sullen

Someone doing his job

You might wonder if he sees you as the person you are

He may well be asking himself the same about you

Yet there you are, both

mostly focused on getting you where you’re going.


This trip the driver began talking as soon as he pulled into the roadway

Complaints about his boss, angry at him for some confusion

I didn’t hear the words so much as I noticed the energy in his voice

So I gathered myself, preparing to be witness to

a ride full of judgment and blame.


Then he commented on the ferry ride I was heading for

The energy shifted and lightened as I responded.

A door opened; he announced today was his birthday

I smiled and wished him well.


And in the next four minutes of conversation

I witnessed the man behind the wheel of this cab

The whole of his life

His aspirations and deep disappointments

Laid bare before a stranger


It was really a very short ride,

but it covered a long journey

One that I was privileged to glimpse

from the back seat of his car.


It was, in fact, the most privileged moment of my day.







Leave a Comment

Filed under Prose and Poetry

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *