The crowd
surrounds him like a shroud
suddenly, he's a dead man
the physician
the calm, smiling healer
has left them

to ponder a road unseen
invisibility will wash him clean
they will be road worn and weary
quiet understanding I hope
or left holding hollow theory
the dust of millions will be on their breath

we all walk alone
when the one we love has gone
words like, " I remember him when . . . "
mere seconds now separate us
a lifetime it takes to regain them