A man not as old as you expect
A man not old as you expect
carefully alights from the red mobility scooter
struggles to free a black-notched walking stick
and inches into Ruby’s on death-camp legs
he peruses the racks and chooses
a fat paperback curled at the edges
I notice a swollen red ball on his elbow
the pervasive thinness of him
two perfect out-turned ears
the contained tilt of his head
