Walking down the lane towards a nearby market,
I saw a man come out of the street racket.
He came running towards me and asked me for direction,
Which was, what a coincidence, the same as my destination!
We walked together till there and I introduced him the different places,
The gift shop, the bookstore, the cloth shop, where hung silks and laces.
From noon till dusk, we strolled and ate and shopped,
And when it was dark, we climbed into a cab that stopped.
On the way back, the cab broke down.
The driver ran for help, as we sat and frowned.
I asked the man where he had come from,
A place not far, he said, but cold and numb.
I asked him his name 'cause I remembered I hadn't.
He sat there for a while as if nothing had happened.
After a moment of hesitation, his lips twirled like tungsten,
And out came the words, Late George Charles Winston.