"Un just"

Running through my hometown, rustling trees swaying in the wind, sun beaming down from above, dripping sweat, I passed a sight unseen to the common eye. An older man, gray beard and long white hair tied in a braid, wearing hiking shorts, a white collared shirt, top buttons unbuttoned, tan socks sticking up above his hiking boots, carrying a walking stick in the same hand as his dog leash--beautiful black German shepherd on his right side, following his every command--holding an empty Coors Light can in his other hand.

And I thought to myself, "Who is this vagabond man, roaming the streets of Farmingville like a wayfaring pilgrim in search of something more?"

To your eyes or mine, this man and his canine may stand out, and questions inevitably arise--'Is that his beer can, or is he helping to keep our streets clean?' "Is he homeless and walking all day long in search of shelter, or is he retired and just a nature-lover, enjoying the day just as I am?'

And I thought that my critical eye--and the many eyes that incorrectly judge this man everyday--is an American injustice, resembling e.e. cummings' poem of a similar name. "In just spring when the world is mud-luscious the little lame balloonman whistles far and wee," cummings writes. His balloonman is similar to my wayfaring pilgrim, unjustly stereotyped as being an eyesore in a springtime teeming with sunshine, treeswaying, and cool zephyrs rolling us towards nighttime and a seemingly endless summer of starblasted open skies and unending felicity.
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Who am I kidding?
I'd want to walk around all day, absorbing it all...in just the same way as my wayfaring pilgrim and his canine companion--to do otherwise would be unjust.