On a cold November morning,
a musician plays his haunting melodies
I made eye contact,
to make sure he was comfortable with being photographed.
I pushed the release button and then told him
how much I had enjoyed his music while
walking up from the deep belly of the
soulless underground station.
He had filled the cold morning
with the warmth of his presence and his melodies.
I left an obolus
in his basket.
Images and Text
© by Merisi