Nameless

Last week I went to a wonderful event at Westdale Secondary School. An open mic night for writers. I was ecstatic when I got the invitation to attend, and of course I knew I would be reading some of my poems.

Only problem was, I hadn’t actually written that many new ones in nearly a year. So the day before the Open Mic night, I took my notebook and sat myself down inside Jackson Square. I was still in my work clothes and it was raining, so there I was right by the window, watching the people outside get drenched.

I even called my husband to let him know I’d be home a little later than planned because I wanted to stay in the mall and write some poetry. Then I started watching people, I know it sounds creepy, but it was purely with intent to be inspired. I was not disappointed.

A face in the crowd stuck out, and he became the subject of one of the poems I read the next night. Now I’m sharing that poem with you 🙂 Enjoy!

Nameless

He sits at the same place

outside the mall, day after day.

Sitting on a grocery bag,

his boney knees stick out.

Sometimes he has them crossed.

A hat sits snug on his head,

while another lays upside down,

crumpled at his feet.

 

He doesn’t ask for spare change,

everyone knows why he sits there.

 

Instead, this nameless man,

smiles through his grey whiskers,

even his eyes smile, crinkling up,

into his wrinkled forehead.

 

No pressure, just a wave and a smile,

as people rush by, too busy to notice.

 

Sometimes, he’ll get up to stretch,

take a sip from his water bottle,

walk around, and then comes back,

always to the same spot.

 

A smile on his face,

a hat on his head, one at his feet,

nameless.

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