at the park
a man comes toward me
as if he knows me
but no he stops only to look over my shoulder
at my sketchbook he is curious
we begin a conversation
he looks at my drawings tells me of his own drawings
his paintings his wife and children his grandchildren
soon enough
i wish to be a part of his life wish
that he would invite me to his home
meet his family
partake in the warmth laugh
as his eyes tells me he laughs but no he smiles once more
and continues on his way
Poetry by one trick pony
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Written on 2017-07-29 at 00:59
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