Inspiration has many faces

He lurked in the shadows near the tracks
decades stacked upon his shoulders
like old books in reaching shelves
and eyes darted past him like scattered birds
restless under his unblinking watch
“peace,” was the sentiment he uttered
low and smokey
as I nodded briefly to him out of habit
noting his overgrown hedge of a beard
his stained white shirt and dull grey eyes
inspiration has many faces

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