To the Man at Work Who Called Me the Wrong Name for Years

I only ever saw him in the halls,
and then only occasionally. As did so many
then, he seemed so old, papery
as an abandoned wasp nest.
Good morning, Fred! he’d shout, startling me.
It was funny, this too-familiar old coot
and his surprisingly hale hailings.
I laughed about him with coworkers who,
to disrupt the doldrums of our sleepy office
afternoons, would call to me, Fred! Oh, Fred!

I always assumed I’d correct him someday
or that he’d learn of his error elsewhere,
but years passed, and Fred I stayed. Nothing
changed but the greening of late-leafing shame.
When I heard of his death, I felt a loss, though
one, I must admit, soiled by an abashed relief.
At the funeral, I silently asked his forgiveness,
and in the guest book I signed my name as Fred.
And now I am he, the one with skin unenvied,
the one who mistakes you, youth for youth.

Kevin Grauke has published work in such places as The Threepenny Review, The Southern Review, Quarterly West, Ninth Letter, and Cimarron Review. He’s the author of the short story collection Shadows of Men (Queen’s Ferry Press), winner of the Steven Turner Award from the Texas Institute of Letters. Bullies & Cowards is forthcoming from Cornerstone Press in 2026. He lives in Philadelphia.