> unseen

He’s invisible, and yet
He’s sitting there,
clearly pretending
to be unnoticed

at the only table,
near the big window,
where he bathes himself
in warm sunshine.

He’s there every day
from not long after
the doors open
at our public library.
He can usually find his spot by nine.

Near his right hand is

always a soft cup of coffee.
which might once have been hot, but now it’s probably cold.
It could even be spiked from a bottle concealed in his coat, but that must be empty by now.

He just sort of pushes the cup,
slides it back and forth,
a bit right now, a bit left then,
nudging it with his fingertips.
and nodding...

Nodding, staring still, always at
the same page of whatever newspaper
He’s been reading all this time.

But not really.
He’s more into
reflection than refraction-
and the magic he had left
is seldom clear all the time.

-dp-
3-15-25