Smiling faces pressed
against silver windows
Fogged up circles
wiped away clean
hoping to see
or be seen
by the man in the chair
with the cigar,
the clean desk
and the blank stare
wondering what
those “people”
are doing
out there.

He calls for Mrs. Mary
“Tell them to leave”
He hates their pathetic
stares
and the blinding
glare
of the mirrored window
that reflects
the face
the he sees
late at night
when he swallows the pill
that helps him
sleep.