A weathered wrinkled face
the ploughed-in years,
A trapper hat covers his ears
strange old man from India;
they’re just like like me and you
they are only human too
But,
how he stood out in that bus queue
that quiet man from India;
He put out his arm
as the bus drew in,
Herringbone clad
brown bony and thin,
and from his scarf tousled neck
he lifted his chin
that tired old man from India.
(Copyright in this work has been asserted by the author,Martin Nicholson)
