Juice

the old man drew to a halt
wiped his brow
leant against a stone wall

shielded eyes from an
unforgiving sun
he had walked far
today

out of his pocket
he withdrew
an apple
and tore into
the flesh
enjoying the juice
seeping into
grey stubble

ahead of him was a village
he had been there
before
many years had passed
sadness and pain
forced him to leave

now was the time to
return

face ghosts