Fragment

Spent a lot of time
just looking — had
one rheumy eye, the
left one; had crusties
in the right; they looked
just fine when they were open
and you were far enough back
to not see them; face had
patches of dry skin, red skin,
potato skin, tomato skin; always
one day away from a shave
and the beard though neat
didn’t say much. Didn’t
say anything — a Van Dyke,
nothing special. Didn’t smile
much. Didn’t talk much.
Up until the day he went
violently away, he kept
to himself as expected.
He never told anything
surprising or vile about
anyone, really. Cipher,
I guess, would be a word
you could use. Fragment;
a shrug of leftover man.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
onward,
T