Look again. He’s always there –
the thinnest man in the sun.
Keeping time,
he throws crumbs
to any bird.
It’s true, he says.
For as long as I live, for as long
as you live,
I’ll be dusting feathers
from my jacket.
When it rains, he sells watches.
No insurance for the buyer,
but ten dollars
is all it takes
to slide one on the wrist.
That’s how Billy made it
through the winter.
C.A. MacConnell
P.S. Hope all is well with you. Hope you liked the poem. Wrote it about a man I knew in Roanoke for some time. He used to drink coffee next to me at a place called Texas Tavern. The sunrise is beautiful. 💞💞
