A big day of small moments;
Pausing in a corridor to ask
‘How are you?’
The surprise of an honest,
Heartbreaking,
Response made her pause
Before asking again.
A new man.
In a stairwell
Who shared also his truth.
A dark one,
But with shards of light
Peeking through.
The last man she asked
Answered
‘Fine.’
The first time;
But when again
Asked
‘How are you?’
His tale was sad.
Shared between
Hellos
And goodbyes
Muttered to others passing
Heads nodding,
Hands raised.
Three men
Whose smiles had masked sadness
And whose words
Touched her deeply
In little
Big ways.
Pooky's Poems 
I think I need to think about his one. A lot more in, than there at first seems.
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There is a lot going on behind your words. Well done.
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Hi Pooky, I knew this poem resonated in some special way and I have realised it is in the use of the word fine. If you have time here’s a link to my blog page about feeling ‘fine’. I could be one of these three. as could most people. You may have read this before, I don’t know but I do know that I have moved on a bit more and so thank you for reminding me that I have. Thank you also for your own not inconsiderable part in that moving on, your own open honesty and the love and care you show are inspirational. Here’s to more big days of small moments . Take care. x. artterry.wordpress.com/2018/07/22/fine-is-not-fine/
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