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Barcelona Diary

There's An Old Man At A Bus Stop

Boots buffed. Gray hair neatly dressed. Slacks formal & pressed.
He stares at nothing in particular...a spot in passing:

the lady & her poodle   coed with briefcase & helmet   the sun reflecting
passing traffic in the windows of Fincas Forcadell...

He's folded his arms across his chest but is not defiant rather, content &
lost for these few moments...to contemplate his horizon through

clear brown eyes / content to wait for that certain bus which he knows
will be coming soon.



Barcelona Diary
It's Mother's Day
By Dawn's Early Light at 120 Miles Per Hour
The Man With His Back To The Room
Intimacies, Prose. Poems and Stories
Homage to a Widow
It's Only TV
Improvisations - Chapbook
After Goya
Improvisations - From Contemporary Music
Mustering What's Left