My Canal Bank Walk

Every the night he’s wrapped in sleeping bags, blankets and quilts, he’s dressed in his hat and his big, but tiered, jacket. It’s zipped up to his neck, his face is covered up over his nose by a worn looking scarf and his hat pulled down below his eyebrows, his two eyes look out as he sits against the edge of the bench with his feet up tucked into his sleeping bag.¬†