He took his seat

A Poem by Shaun Loomis

He took his seat

I saw him on the train tracks
He walked fast and his hands were full of wind
The weight of it seemed to pull him down...
and the sun shined on his back without lack
His eyes dim behind an iron blindfold
Black.

He looked old and tired
and he declared
"I love crossword puzzles, I see them well!"

I couldn't tell.

The news in his back pocket
it was yesterday's paper. Gone.
The headphones he wore were the color of bronze.

Trumpets and symbols were sounding but the drums were broken
This man walked fast. Sulking
Rosary beads he stroked. Stroking
without hope...
Yes, without hoping.

I could see it in his face
every wrinkle
every trace.

I cried from the streets

"Sir! Watch your feet!"

But the man sat down and took his seat.