I met that man in a coastal town
over his face beards flowed wild
his eyes they knew only to look down
his years didn’t count he was a child!

He smelled of bile feces and phlegm
his skin was a thick layer of tar
from his **** hung loose his shame
they said he was a castaway who came from far!

Sun and rain found him a barren rock
a sculpture that birds could err to perch
standing unmindful of the passing flock
as if he was lost in a deep search!

He just stood there holding his ground
eyes cast down on the paved road
none had heard him utter a sound
muttered neath breath even one word!

To the townsfolk he was a statue on the square
that losing his way hovered on the brink
but I had a feel within him somewhere
was a man looking for a long lost link!

When finally quiet comes
the long pain of night's trudge
the unmasked soul dredge
swift an arrow, piercing
when friends have all gone
in the silent dark before dawn
this is when you
miss me.

I don't like change,
I keep it tucked away in my wallet,
the only space for it,
no good space,
really,

it just sits there,
weighs down on the frayed stitching in
my old jean pocket and makes things
too heavy on one side,

never worth much,
always just the leftovers,
the things I couldn't trade in for something else so
I got them back,
different now,
heavier,
a stale metallic smell,
not worth as much.

When I asked him how old was he
Giving a mischievous wink
Said won’t tell you straightly
But in a riddle to think!

If you add up the digits of that year
Multiply it by three
You would be almost there
But not there exactly!

Three more to it you’ve to add
And that’s my age no doubt
You would make me really glad
If can figure that out!

The two digits that make my age
Have a difference of one
You’ve enough clues to the maze
To work out my age with fun!

The digits added is short of ten
But from one too far
Would you now take the pain
To make my age clear?

Must escape from
this information saturation
craving Facebook likes
to receive some affirmation
connect to Mother Nature
and watch the
transformation.

Feet, heartbeat, breath, thoughts
are all in synch, during a walk.

Leaves and dappled sunshine
flourish then quietly die
Birds ride air currents
soar across the sky.

Little sound around
but the crunch of gravel
under rhythmic boots
forest loneliness a marvel.

Connection to the earth
ground beneath feet
you move upon
it moves beneath.