You were sitting with 4 dogs on Early Street.

I barely saw your face, as our meeting lasted mere seconds.
I only recall that you had a rugged brown beard, fit for a lumberjack or perhaps a Paul Bunyan impersonator.

You told the dogs not to bark, and they didn’t.
I rewarded their good behavior with a few pats on the head.
As I scurried away clad in my typical trucker hat/aviators/torn blue jeans combo, I remember thinking,
“Huh, that dude looks like he’s under 40,”
which is a rarity in this town.

I’m under 40, too!