Linger (Weekly Prompt #9)

From the road, I saw a man,

wrapped in a puffer jacket

nursing a cold can of the poison

he’d come to rely on – or

that was my interpretation

as the wind bit his cheeks

and ‘Police Station’ loomed above him

in noir neon.

 

I took him as one to linger,

in hope of a fluorescent saviour

shrouded in paper work and glowing blue.

The man with legs crossed then uncrossed

stayed as I left, tumbling around the roundabout,

unable to shake his wrinkled hands

from my head, heart and the beer can.

 

_____________________________

WP #9: linger

Link your response to this prompt in the comments. 

 

Image credit. 

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