Smoking and Waiting

The man stood leaning

Hands in pockets to keep warm

Cigarette in his mouth

He smoked his cigarette without using his hands

Impressive by any standard

Stood far away from the crowd

To not bother them with his smoke

The bus came and everyone got on but him

Once his cigarette finished, he would put it out

He would pull out another

Lit it and put his hands back in his pocket

His jacket a thick weathered dark brown leather with a wool collar

The collar was popped up

It looked warm enough to deal with the cold

Worn pair of jeans and tested boots on his feet.

His face was as weathered as his jacket

Lines of experience and trouble ran along his face

This was a man who spent most of his life outside

He stood leaning and smoking

Waiting and waiting

For what I’ll never know

His life a mystery to me

I bet he had a few good stories to tell

Maybe over a drink he’d open up and tell his life’s journey

I turn as the bus pulls away, looking at the mystery man

Until him becomes as small as an ant

Standing there, smoking and waiting

For what I’ll never know

Segundo Juan Devora