Four men I don't see in the market.
We stopped just short of smiles
we were always about to begin a conversation
we told each other we had years ago
met somewhere
and we talked only with eyes.
Then on a day, for days
they weren't there anymore.
I try to imagine their age
if they were old enough to be dead.
Like a ray of hope I love to believe
they moved away elsewhere.
Four men short and it will be five.
Maybe one eye will look for me
a little sad at my missing
just another man not seen anymore..
An ordinary man, a poet at heart
who felt more than could express.
He wouldn't know.