He sits like he owns the place,
Walks like he’s already won the race.
Professional,
Yet casually.

Grey coat draped over his sure shoulders,
Moves quick and slick unlike boulders.
Swift,
Yet casually.

The black bag sits alone,
As he waits observing on his phone.
Tense,
Yet casually.

He catches a glimpse and chuckles a laugh.
I turn away his face only half.
Knowing,
Yet casually.

He knows something that I don’t.
Pay close attention but I know that you won’t.
Casual
Yet, undetected.