There's a thought in the head, of the man.
Who carries his dreams, like the coat slung on his shoulder,
Bringing you love, in the cap in his hand.
And each step he takes, is one half of a life-time:
No word he would say, could you understand.
So he bundles his regrets, into a gesture of sorrow,
Bringing you love, cap in hand.
Catching breath, as he looks through the dining-room window:
Candle-lit table, for two has been laid.
Strange slippers by the fire:
Strange boots in the hall-way.
Put my cap on my head - I turn, and walk away.
