by Robert L. Penick
There’s hardly anything left of them,
the tottering loners who visit
the supermarkets and public libraries,
moving cautiously, surveying the terrain
like experienced soldiers crossing
They know these spaces by heart, though,
the circuit through the pharmacy,
the path to the corner table at
the coffee shop, where they can observe
the world through a dusty window.
Still, they move with care, knowing
the soil beneath their feet is shifting
a perceptible amount each day
and will continue to drift until they
catch up with those they’ve outlasted.
Robert L. Penick is not someone you'd notice on the street.
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