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The Man With No Name

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The man who never was came to my door.

He sang a story of lost love and apple trees.

I was fourteen. He was close to thirty-four.

He asked for nothing and kept with his smile.

It was snowing but he didn't seem to mind.

He said he would only stay a while.

He blinked twice and followed his footsteps out into the night.

I never saw him again and I didn't know his name-

But in that moment, I decided to write.

His torn gloves and homeless scruff-

Only a smile seemed to be enough.

He sang a story of lost love and apple trees...

The man with no name.

Comments (2)

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'..of lost love and apple trees' gave me shivers. Good job! Keep up the writing!

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Thanks!

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