I saw a man in Lyon.
He was at the train station.
He looked a bit wild.
He tossed his head back
and laughed.
He stood beneath
the departure signs,
still laughing
I heard the click-click-click
as the signboard changed.
Trains rolled out
leaving the station,
just as they always do.
Departing,
now gone, gone,
gone.
With his tattered shoes
and everything,
He was gone, gone, gone.