He would stop me
By the Mall.
Excuse himself.
Ask for change.
Words came out awkwardly.
Almost shaven,
Hair curly, uncombed.
Usually sunny days.

As if seeing a friend,
He once more would
Expect a bit.
Damp morning, this one.
Did I catch a smirk?
Coin in hand, searching.
No longer any small talk.

Early winter wind.
Rushing to bookstore;
Almost tripped
Over him,
Crouching in the vestibule
By a warm vent.
Feigning guitar performance,
Two strings missing.

Heavy snows last night.
Grabbing java before work.
Heated conversation
Over my shoulder. him,
Alone and jabbering.
Cradling warm Tim's cup.
Mongrel dog leashed outside.

Happy to feel
First promise of spring.
But ruckus on the road;
Car horns blaring.
Straining to see
Scarecrow figure, spittled beard.
Pacing the white line.
Window to window.


  1. Nice piece, Doug. You gotta heart, brother.

  2. Slow slide to hell, well documented. Found it from Floyd's place - thanks for sharing!


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