His century old eyepiece
Slipped from his eye
When he was bumped
And fell to the pavement.
Fortunately
It didn’t break
Tho as he leaned down
To pick it up
He saw in it
an eye close
And open again
As if it were winking at him
He stared at it
But it didn’t happen again
Making him wonder
If it could have been the reflection
Of his own eye
A minor disturbance
Carried his attention
To the pipe store
Where some people were rioting
With candles
Fine pipes and tobacco
Lay in pieces
In the broken window
To go to the laundromat
Was so hard
