Pulling a name from memory,
but I only knew him in shadows,
at the edge of my vision,
sometimes catching my eye,
prowling the streets, a cypher,
beyond the norms, conventions,
what we expect in this life.
He wore a heavy old trench coat,
gray, maybe drab olive green,
he walked hunched over, heavy,
at the back of yards, the streets.
I remember his hair, a toupee,
more looking like a jet-black skunk,
stapled, affixed above his forehead,
falling almost down his neck.
I only knew him in shadows,
I am not certain I know his name,
not wanting to harm a living specter,
a ghost prowling the downtown,
the streets of an American city,
curled shoes encrusted with slush,
black dirt of March, the streets…
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February 25, 2024
He prowled the streets, a cypher
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but I only knew him in shadows,
at the edge of my vision,
sometimes catching my eye,
prowling the streets, a cypher,
beyond the norms, conventions,
what we expect in this life.
gray, maybe drab olive green,
he walked hunched over, heavy,
at the back of yards, the streets.
more looking like a jet-black skunk,
stapled, affixed above his forehead,
falling almost down his neck.
I am not certain I know his name,
not wanting to harm a living specter,
a ghost prowling the downtown,
the streets of an American city,
curled shoes encrusted with slush,
black dirt of March, the streets…
February 25, 2024
He prowled the streets, a cypher
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