The Man on the Stump

The Man on the Stump

The man on the stump in the middle of the city right in the center where the buses and the taxis drive by every single minute next to the news stands and in between the restaurants and shops

The man on the stump in the same place on the same stump every morning, holding the same old cup

“Hola!” “Hola!” As I walk the same old route the same every day

Every morning he greets Every morning I reciprocate “Hola!” with a smile “Hola!” with another smile

The man on the stump Holding the same old cup

The girl on her daily morning walk passing by the same old places every single walk I see you, my friend

The man on the stump holding the same old cup “Hola! Buenos dias!” with a smile I was waiting for you “Holaaaa!” I was too

Waiting for the point in my walk where I see The man on the stump holding the same old cup