He had a little white stash and a humble speech
He had incredible posture
He effortlessly held two bags, while he talked  to me at the reception
He spoke highly of others every chance he got
His eyes, as wide as wise behind his glasses

He was 87
Born in january like me,
He drove from France to Portugal and back
He used to be a war general's driver in the army
He used to run marathons
He was of compact stature and big heart
His eyes gleamed like Carl Jung's just above his eyes as he looked up,
He smiled in 8 years old
If I believed in souls, I'd say his was pure

His name was Manuel
And he liked to share his life in words
Instinctively and without agenda,
I listened as if time was no more
He left at dawn, 800 Kms left to drive