I saw him again today
someone with nothing to say
The open roadsides are his world
Standing under a leafless tree
In his shredded apparel
The sun beat down upon him
Yet he swore not and sweated not
Silent as a watchful sentinel
He scanned the surroundings
Eyes narrow slits like a hooded cobra
He knows no songs and tells no tales
Life is a closed book with his story inside
What juicy morsels might we glean therein?
What cries from broken hearts and what deep sighs might we hear?
I saw him again today
Standing at the traffic circle
Life went on without him
The dignity of his demeanor
Well beyond the reach of any diplomat
The winds and the breezes are his free bath
They carry the scales of his his scent to the ends of the earth
And so he remains free of convention
His own man to the last moan of broken branches
Today he looked up for the first time
And smiled a rusty smile in hues of yellow and brown
Aware there was  another in his universe
Then he spat out his disgust at my priorities
It clung to the dust in a mess of spittle
And I knew I had been exorcised from his world