“What’s in his head?” I wondered ,  as I stared at him . “What’s on his head?” I wondered as I stared at it from my seat,  realizing he had partial alopecia.  That one  round, smooth, oily, bald spot Elderly,  D rowning in his clothes  with a  color  as brown as dust I could not tell if they were dirty or just brown His shoes had seen better days   I observed his facial expression S eemed to me like  he  was in a dilemma  as he paced in no certain manner   Sane or insane,  I could not tell…   …till he spoke!   His voice  so   fruity  His accent  so  creamy, I could taste it   He was courteous and full of wisdom An erudite too, I assumed,  as I finally sighted his bag, books, papers and files  a rranged  neatly on a bench . He sipped tea at intervals from a transparent plastic bowl  T he same ty pe my grandfather liked to use   He wrote, what?  Probably his will or a letter to his unborn great granddaughter.    He seem ed to know it was his last days Reason  he wore the  color  of the