He comes in every day

He comes in every day

We say ‘hi.’

We might speak

From time to time

Nothing too controversial

Most days

I just want time to sit

Drink strong coffee slow

Work my way up

To getting on with the day

It’s becoming harder

The weariness seems

To be catching up

No matter what I do

He sat across from me,

Not for the first time

But this time he sucked up

All of the oxygen

As if wanting to put out a fire

I nod a greeting

It feels like he has intruded

Not that he seems to notice

‘It helps when it’s cold out’

He growls

With a voice that has been coated

In molasses.

‘How do you mean?’

I ask...I had contemplated saying nothing

But it seemed politic to enquire

‘Men like me.’ he paused

Looking around slowly

Taking in the ambience

Nobody seemed to notice his interest

They were all good

At feigning indifference

And leaned in

His breathing shallow

But still with the flavour of creosote

Weathering my face

This was not a well man

Pinpricks of sweat beading

Across his forehead

‘We are not supposed to cry.’

‘Really?’

‘No ...we’re supposed to suck it up

Take whatever is thrown at us

And just ride it out.’

‘Na..’ I shook my head slowly

‘It used to be like that but times have changed

Men like us should show our feelings.’

‘Maybe men like you.’ he whispered.

‘You have a kind face

But me...I look like a big ugly bear

People expect me to be tough’

‘You think?’

‘Yeh I do but when it's cold…

People get tears in their eyes

Even down their face

On mornings like this

It’s to be expected…

Dew drops, dripping from noses

Thank god for them

I can head off into the rain

Walk till I can’t walk no more

And then sit for a while

Wet through from top to toe

Who would know?’

‘You’ve been doing that

This past six months, since

Maud died…’ I whispered

‘You knew?’

‘It’s hard to miss a big lug like you

Walking into the teeth of a north wind.’

He smiled

‘Everybody knows..’

I nodded

‘It’s a small town.’

‘Oh.’ he looked genuinely surprised

As a burdenful of tears fell

Down his big red face

I felt bad

For wanting him gone

When he first sat down

But who would have known

This would be the day

He would choose

To take the weight off.

‘I miss Maudie.’ he sobbed

‘I know you do.’ I murmured

Squeezing his hand in mine.

It seemed, in that moment

It was the best move.