The Man is Not in his Seat

The coffee is still on the table,
the table is still in the street,
the seat is still in the corner:
but the man is not in his seat.

Perhaps he has gone to his office,
perhaps he has gone to the park;
perhaps he’ll be back in a minute,
perhaps he’ll be back before dark.

I think he is due in the morning,
I think he is due every day;
I think we have all of us seen him
whenever the bus passed this way.

The coffee dries out on the table,
the table is still in the street,
the seat is still in the corner:
but the man is not in his seat.

A friend may have called at the café
and lead him away with a smile;
or a man in a car brought a message,
so he said: I might be a while.

Or else he will never return here
to raise his glass to the street:
The stranger who passed was an angel
to take him away from his seat.

Christina Egan © 2015

—

In memoriam Erdogan Güzel
Murdered in the street in Wood Green,
London, England, on 10.7.2015
Requiescat in pace