Sunday, November 29, 2015


I’ve seen him before. 
Waiting for what I do not know.
Alone He sits, politely nodding to the passersby, checking his watch patiently. 
He wears an old black suit with a beaming white shirt,
atop his bald head a fading black derby sits.
He’s alone this nondescript man, waiting. 
On his narrow lap a tattered book rest, he’s waiting.
I’ve seen him before, the black man with the tattered book.
Waiting for what I do not know.

By Lucius Wilson

Books by Lucius Wilson

No Turning Back
The Red Helmet
The Right to Kill

Art Work by Lucius Wilson


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