by Jeff Glovsky
The snow in April tapers off …
He lightly brushes off his collar, shakes his hood, removes his gloves. He’s cold still, as he pulls the zipper down on his vast jacket.
Though it’s spring now, he’s got sweaters on. The first, with hair, and bacon smells, drips heavily above the second: green and sleeveless, covering a red plaid woolen shirt. He shrugs the first one off.
Sits down now in his sweater vest … Crosses polyester limbs and orders coffee, and a cup of fruit.
He lights a cigarette and puffs in peace, another morning.