It was a dank evening, not twilight
which is usually cloaked in clarity,
when I saw him coming down the lane
muttering profanities up to the sky.

We both stopped at the same time,
I looked into his sullen face and he
gazed into my aged, bearded one
and was envious of me.

We spoke for a while, haltingly at first,
near strangers and the long years
since we had met were a massive,
sceptical shadow.

He took his leave mumbling about
how unjust the world was, but
there was something in his eyes,
a sense of irony that gave me hopes.

Watching him being absorbed by
the evening that now had turned into
clarity of dusk, I knew he was in for
a rough ride and wished him well.