The Newspaper 
 By the shelves he sat,
 reading line by line
 the newspaper.
 It was his regular spot.
 He reached out, touched my arm,
 Pulled me to him and asked,
 “What’s this scentence say?”
 We spoke, he asked questions
 more in Spanish than my tongue,
 I answered in my tongue - no Spanish.  
 I tried to convey meaning of the line,
 I smiled - he did too;
 He patiently gestured and I too,
 He pointed, I mimed.
 Of the words, I don’t know
 what meaning came; 
 He nodded politely, smiled, 
 browsed His paper hoping
 meaning soon be found.

© Craig A Roberts, 2021

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