Cold.
by Grandpa

After bringing the docks into the streets
He stood on the corner
     waiting for the colors to change
Looking up for the little man who
Tells him when to go.
A man appeared to come up beside him
   the image was only a wish
   from his past - 
A forgiving word might ease his mind,
or that
     he would
	find a true
Companion.

When the colors turned he did not move,
Arms clenched, he watched the
Pasts
and Loves fly by into the street.
He was alone
In a space of time 
	which had no time but time
	to look and be still,
A corner cold with concrete and ice
Until the morning came again.

The rain came down and down
and
He looked up to the sky
Where God himself reached out to man,
A host of angels stared and laughed
	at the sight of all his grace.
He turned around and walked away.