Another Line

Hastily I approached him
as he wandered up the path.
Gradually. Our distance closed
and soon I was behind him. The wind
blew into my face as I held my coat
tighter around my body like a blanket.
I had work to do back in my suite,
and the crunch of the snow
marked our footsteps with footprints.
Looking ahead, I scouted my pass to his right
but more people were in that lane.
So, I followed, single file behind him,
slowing my stride to match his.
Another man now had his place
behind me. Single file we marched,
through the cold, biting air. The young man
before me lit a cigarette. The followers
suffered as his smoke billowed behind him
into our faces, choking us.
But what would you do?
You stay in line, because
it's too troubling to take the lead.
You drop your plans,
you drop your individuality,
and you follow like everyone else.
You wear the same coat and jeans
too. What do we know or care
about what is underneath?
The snow continues to drift down about us,
and the footsteps fade away.