Under the Neon

He stands on the corner
Rusted out by the rain
Awash in neon glow
Hands in deep pockets
Waiting for Sunday
And the death of love
The memories descend
Rapid-fire quick
Low to the ground
Like he used to be
When she was his
Lost in his shadow
Passionate as sin
But gone in a moment
He shifts his stance
Face tightly drawn
Against invisible wind
And the promise of more
The nuance subtle
So much about intent
He sinks to the ground
While waiting for Sunday
And the incoming fog
Obscuring emotion
He blames himself
Eyes closed in thought
While she passes by
Oblivious to his pain
Under the neon.

Sam