A man crosses the street in rain, <br />stepping gently, looking two times north and south, <br />because his son is asleep on his shoulder. <br /> <br />No car must splash him. <br />No car drive too near to his shadow. <br /> <br />This man carries the world's most sensitive cargo <br />but he's not marked. <br />Nowhere does his jacket say FRAGILE, <br />HANDLE WITH CARE. <br /> <br />His ear fills up with breathing. <br />He hears the hum of a boy's dream <br />deep inside him. <br /> <br />We're not going to be able <br />to live in this world <br />if we're not willing to do what he's doing <br />with one another. <br /> <br />The road will only be wide. <br />The rain will never stop falling.<br /><br />Naomi Shihab Nye<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/shoulders-3/
