You ever see one of those
old guys who spend their days
wandering the town
with the soles of their
never weary shoes?

Their history tends to be a mystery.
Primary family most likely
already buried in a plot
where they’ll be in a few years,
maybe months, or days.
All other relatives
no longer relative.
Left alone with the
sun on their backs,
and the memories
in their minds.
And if they live
in a house,
you’ve never seen it.
Or if they live at all,
you don’t believe it.

And like yesterday
and hopefully tomorrow,
today they’ll walk
and study the alien
replacements
of their youth,
and wonder
what the hell
happened.