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Observing the existential angst of an unknown man in autumn

A statuesque man sits on a park bench,
an image of serenity.
His head is full,
of longings that will never be met,
luck that will pass him by,
days and months that will be forgotten,
recurrent de ja vu,
corridors and paths never explored,
injuries that don't quite heal,
incomplete stories that no one reads,
a hovering bird ignored,
and potholes unnoticed.
I suspect.

As I consider conversation,
the clouds empty themselves on him.
After a minute, we leave,
in opposite directions.

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