A curve of light
But not yet a smile
A share of the cup
But not yet any glow
He crosses his arms
Leans forwards
To rest them on the table
But shows little satisfaction
Am I intruding
Does he deserve peace
To contemplate on
Whatever are his troubles
Slowly he puts on his kagoul
And places his North Face bag
Over his head, as will I
Similarly do, in a few minutes
