She's Gone, He's Smiling

One of those socially awkward moments

as a tall, angular man, face as white as his hair

walks up the street in your direction, smiling

and you think 'should I know him?' and smile

in return, his face familiar and yet not familiar

until you realize it's a neighbour who lives 

halfway down the street who when you canvassed

for charitable causes rebuffed you always until

one time he rebuked you for not speaking to

him in French in an officially bilingual country.

The very same man who for years following you

would see slowly walking beside a frail woman

pushing a walker before her in all weathers who

would stop to gaze longingly at your little dogs as

you too walked up the street, cooing 'aren't they cute'

in unaccented English. Then you and she would

briefly exchange pleasantries and both walk on.

It occurred to you lately you no longer see them

on the street, then the thought vanished. But today

there he was, not scowling as usual but smiling

walking on his own, no longer with his wife and

beaming and you wonder what occasioned this

altered judgement and whether this means a truce.