Outside a Bodega by PoeticMindset

Outside a Bodega
waiting
the man
cold and alone
with a cigarette
between
middle and index
fingers long
ash flick to cement
slow methodical ascent
returning to lips
slight head tilt
smoke rings into
night sky
waiting
he stands outside
the bodega
a Thursday
in black trenchcoat

Read the entire poem here...

(C) Michael Sesling

From the SSC Archives; 14/11/2009

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