He sat on the pavement. <br />He sat there that day. <br />He’d sat there; I really couldn’t say, <br />maybe a week or a month? <br />He was sat there yesterday, <br />when I rushed past, <br />and he’s sat there again today. <br />Grey against a grey pavement <br />Grey against my grey thoughts <br />Grey as my hair against rain sky. <br />Today as I rushed on my way, <br />as I passed him; he spoke. <br />A voice of bespoke elocution. <br />A sound without any confusion. <br />Words that hung in the air, <br />timeless without any diffusion. <br />And his sound shone in my perception, <br />with colours that defy any description. <br />He spoke and I knew him <br />I knew him so well. <br />He never again will be grey. <br />He never was. <br />It was I that was feeling that way.<br /><br />David Taylor<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/he-sat-there/
