She saw him pale and old,
against the gentle rain,
moving through the last of his days,
slow and unshaven.
The avenue slopes up, the cameras look down.
In his kitchen, the light in the fridge is broken,
the white kettle the same.
She saw him pale and old,
against the gentle rain,
moving through the last of his days,
slow and unshaven.
The avenue slopes up, the cameras look down.
In his kitchen, the light in the fridge is broken,
the white kettle the same.