Doe

He sits there, all the time
on the bench, he waits.
Some say, it's for the world.
Some think, he's lazy.
Some glance and snap at the mere
sight of the man,
clothed in materials of the earth,
carefully spun
timely undone
Hair a mangled mess,
matte and matted.
Shoes of a soldier,
laces of a veteran
honor of none.
Soleless.
8/3/2010