Our very lives depend on the ethics of strangers, and most of us are always strangers to other people. – Bill Moyers
STRANGERS By Lazlo Slomovits
A man is running hard
to catch the bus that just left.
It’s picking up speed but he
pulls even and raps on its side,
and a woman by the window
yells to the driver, who stops
and opens the accordion door.
But the man does not get on—
he points back to an old woman
who has not run a step
in a very long time
shuffling towards the bus.
Nor does he leave until he’s
helped her up both steps
then walks back slowly
still breathing hard
toward us who are
waiting for a different bus.
What can a group of strangers
do at a time like this?
A time in its own tiny way like
when Bob Hayes roared by them all
to bring the relay home,
or when Billy Mills devoured
the last 50 of the 10,000 meters
or when Joan Benoit came striding
into the stadium alone—and all of us
strangers stood up and cheered.
