I argue with the old man
in the park
your shadow does not match
your intentions
he unleashes his devised
laugh and continues
marching some great crescendo
some unarmed evening;
the leaves applaud wildly
(next time i will swallow his insults)
he boards his one way ticket
and coughs noncompliance
to glass eyed denizens
that roost on dimly lit benches--
sunset awakens heathen hearts
to his reckoning;
my breath is lost to him.