|
Hunkered, elbows on knees,
so deep does he sink
that hand and fingers
seem a face apart.
A ring with no stone,
worn as smooth as nails & eyes,
glares. Pushed aside,
he knows there is
only this waiting
Worn sneakers, pants,
jacket, shirt Filthy,
but the stitches hold,
as he does
on to what was once his
Piled for sale, battered spoons
& rusted tins, and a torn
umbrella to ward off the sun
are now all he has to offer
All he has |
