The Weelchair Man

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I sit
In the trolley
Looking out the window
In the background
Is a library
In the middle
Is a bus stop
Beside the bus stop
Is a man
With balding hair
In a red wheelchair
As he reads
From a book
A thick, blue book
He adjusts his glasses
This I see
I write it down
In the trolley
That begins to move
He is out of sight now
What was he reading?
I’ll never know
Who was he?
I’m clueless
But what I do know
Is that I saw him
In his red wheelchair
Reading his book
A thick, blue book
Which he read
At a bus stop
As I watched him
From the trolley.





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