Queen Station

The man wearing brown hiking boots
is reading a book about trees.
I wonder if he knows
I've just breathed life into him
with my pen strokes,
immortalized him with blue ink,
stolen him from a three dimensional
life, and made him flat.
When I got on at Queen he was already here,
waiting for me to observe
his quiet cry for attention.
Unnoticed by most other passengers,
who are too busy popping gum
to ease the pressure in their ears.
His desire to melt into the burgundy seat
was foiled by those
brown hiking boots.
I don't think he's made eye contact
with a single person, and he
pulls a cookie from his bag and chews,
reading about the largest trees in the world.
B.C and the redwoods,
on his way home
to a blonde wife
to a house on a corner lot
to a front hall closet
with just enough room for his size 12
brown hiking boots.