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Through the half-painted filigree of trees drags an old man, his course sacks coat stretching on his back, Around him, leaves rush and tumble, like the cars over there. Unguarded children laugh and point but the old coat drags on: unpleasantly. A forgotten cigarette shows its glowing head, offering brief solitude; the old coat stoops, almost embarrassed, but ancient knees quiver and break, sinking into the golden sea. Three car families get off the bus and walk, kicking and hustling the leaves, pushing before them a golden tidal wave. Young lovers' shoes hit an object; hard, but carry on, not seeing the coat beneath them. |
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