Photo credit: Dorothea Lange, Man leaning against vacant store
His eyes close
As if he prays
Corners of his mouth
Move as a young cat
Dreams of suckling
Does his faith send a
Request to his god
Or does he dream.
A tear falls from the
Outside corner
Lands on his collar
No—it’s sweat,
A drop from his hair.
Old man is like a babe
Resting in a crib
Constructed by days
Of hard labor
Hammered by nights
With jarred hooch
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