The Better Man

  

Queueing up at the store

the old man shuffled behind

in torn, ragged clothes

his hair unkempt,

smelling of wet dog –

the other customers stepped back

he was counting his change

a handful of battered coins

his wrinkles sagged like his shoulders

he had stared at sun and rain

with an unflinching face

his hands had seen winters

many winters

he was buying those soggy baguettes

the kind of which gotten

at the bargain section

a can of the cheapest tuna,

two cans of a good brand

of dog food

a tomato, two bananas,

and a couple apples

his hair showed signs of combing

those from a hand once firm

those which lack a mirror

then he muttered to himself

clenched his fistful of cents

left the queue in a hurry –

the people moved like an ebbing wave

the picture of him feeding his dog

better than he fed himself

of him trying to keep himself

and his clothes

neat

oblivious of his dog's smell

I moved the checkout divider

told the cashier I'd pay for his items

when he came back he didn't notice

he had picked a third can

when the cashier didn't stop

he extended his hand

she told him – she repeated

he didn't seem to understand

he looked at me

he opened his mouth

twice

he had no words

I nodded

he nodded

his food in his crumpled bag

he moved to go out

twice he turned back

I didn't look

too busy daring glares

at the judging crowd behind

when I got outside

I saw him near the door

his dog was happy to see him

nuzzling in his armpit

whimpering

patches of skin showing

through the shaggy fur

something broke inside

perhaps his dog thought

he'd been abandoned again

perhaps the man had forgotten

the impulse of charity

he held his dog's head

for the longest time

maybe that was their happiness

showing through the rents

their way of greeting

an unexpected stroke of luck

come dinner they would eat

out of their tin cans

smile, nod at one another

pick their teeth clean

he would tell his dogs

stories of the old days

and they would fall asleep

content, reassured

him patting his dog

happy he could get

the food he likes

come morning he would

try his best again

to look as decent as he could

comb his hair,

fasten his belt,

get enough food

to bring them both

safe and fed

till the next morning

he was

without a doubt

the better man