The Stranger

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The streets so empty
The sky so dim
Lonesome he looked,
against the breath of the wind
His hands nearly frozen
He rubs them for heat
Nothing but his shadow,
trailed his feet
A view full of colors
He sees black and white
As though others were seeing day,
he was stuck in night.
He walks a little slower
He lets out a sigh
His head as empty
as the vast december sky
He has walked quite a distance
getting harder to see
the lonesome guy is becomming
part of my memory
Did he reach his destination?
That, I will never know.
For the sight of him has faded
from my car window.





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